


My Storm-Beaten Heart

by Lmj21



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: "It's literature...smutty literature", "Swords and Shields", Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Courtly Love, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fighting, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Frottage, Interrupted, Kink Meme, Kissing, Light Masochism, Loss of Virginity, Love, Lyrium Withdrawal, Making Out, Mild Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Injuries, Misunderstandings, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Poetry, Romance, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Scratching, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Sparring, Teasing, Vaginal Sex, Winter Palace, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lmj21/pseuds/Lmj21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dragon Age Inquisition's greatest untold love story: Cassandra Pentaghast and Cullen Rutherford.<br/>Mainly follows the events as they unfold throughout the game, imagining that both characters rejected the Inquisitor because in their hearts they knew that someone else already held their affections.</p><p>In response to a number of unfilled prompts on kinkmeme requesting romance/fluff/smut/sparring for these two.</p><p>I will link to the relevant prompt as they appear in the story.</p><p>This will be approx. 10 chapters long.</p><p>UPDATE: Smut really starts from chapter 6 onwards if that's what you're here for  :)<br/>NB the 'darker' tags are for chapter 9.</p><p>UPDATE 12th May - chapter 12 is pure smut if that's what you're after ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Haven

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt request:
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/10859.html?page=24#comments
> 
> "These two would be scorching together. Cass handpicked him to be the Commander of the Inquisition's forces. She saw great things in him and there's no doubt he respects her.
> 
> I'd love to see something like the two of them sword-training, working some stress out. They're pretty evenly matched and being super competitive then one thing leads to another and the next instant they're doing the frick frack.
> 
> Bonus points if someone catches them at some point and it gets around Skyhold that Cass and the Commander are a thing."
> 
> Hope you enjoy, please leave comments/kudos - I'd love to know what you think of these two :)

“There’s a shield in your hand, block with it!” Cullen barked at the latest sorry recruit to catch his eye. The Herald struggled to continue with their conversation after hearing how fearsome the Commander could be. And yet, hadn’t Cassandra confided in her that he’d been sick throughout the crossing from Kirkwall? The image of this hulking man huddled over a bucket certainly worked to restore her confidence a little.

Without meaning to, the Inquisitor often found herself drawn back to the Commander during the training sessions, each time daring to ask him increasingly personal questions until she decided she’d have to be a little more direct, swallowing her breath (and pride) she began:

“Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?”

“No, I fear I made few friends there and my family are in Ferelden.”

“No-one special caught your interest?”

“I can’t say I was looking.” The Inquisitor noticed how Cullen’s eyes darted away from her as he spoke, but could not see the object of his attention. “I wasn’t good company back then.”

“I might enjoy your company.” The Herald looked up hopefully, immediately realising her mistake as his face blushed.

“If I’ve made you think otherwise…I can offer you friendship nothing more.”

Cullen’s shoulders sagged as the Inquisitor walked away, in another lifetime perhaps but for now…now he had been speaking truthfully when he said he could only offer friendship. He was determined to make a success of the new life Cassandra had offered him. For her faith and generosity he would be eternally grateful, he would not squander such an opportunity by letting himself get distracted by…

He found himself sucking in a sharp intake of breath as he watched Cassandra’s claymore dismember a training dummy. Her body spun with frightening speed as it felled her hapless opponent. She looked up, wiping sweat from her brow, and caught his eye. They shared an easy smile, welcoming the familiarity amongst the sea of new faces. 

Cassandra was pulled from the moment by the Herald appearing beside her. She tried to mask the frown threatening to break across her forehead. Although the Herald ought to be busy, she seemed to find an extraordinary amount of time making idle conversation with her. 

As expected, the Herald began questioning Cassandra about her past, her parents, and her favourite foods even. Cassandra’s answers becoming shorter until eventually she found she could not restrain herself any further:

“The flirting. With me, I’ve noticed it, unless it is my imagination… which is entirely possible.”

“I can stop.” The Herald seemed entirely unperturbed by the directness of Cassandra’s statement.

“I cannot return your feelings.”

“Are you sure? I can be pretty persuasive.”

“You are the Herald of Andraste and my leader and a woman.” So many quick excuses yet the real one remained buried somewhere beyond even Cassandra’s comprehension: “I hope we can remain friends?” Cassandra spoke with truth and warmth in her voice, the Herald accepted her friendship with a quick smile before skipping off to talk with her other companions.

Cassandra turned to watch her go, shaking her head at the strangeness of the girl. She heard a low chuckle close to her.

“I’m glad I’m not the only one.” Cullen said.

“Ah. I had no idea.” Cassandra blushed. “Were you listening to that entire conversation?”

“Guilty. I couldn’t help but hear the echoes from our own.”

“Well, if she’s being so forward I imagine someone will take the bait soon enough.”

“Indeed, she is a beautiful woman…I mean objectively, some may find her…” Cullen began to flounder, this sort of relaxed friendship was new to him; he hadn’t yet mastered the art of filtering his thoughts before they slipped off his tongue.

“I understand. But you were not so easily tempted?” Cassandra’s large eyes contemplated him for a moment, seemingly appraising him. He instantly recalled her giving him much the same look when she’d found him among the smouldering ruins of Kirkwall. A lone survivor. She’d seen potential.

“I do not wish to be distracted from our cause, Seeker. Much like you.” Cullen let himself enjoy the new sensation of having met a like mind.

“Yes.” Cassandra turned away to begin collecting up the remains of her training dummy; Cullen returned to his recruits. Something niggled at her, she couldn’t unravel it so let loose her frustration on yet another dummy instead.

When there were no more foes to defeat, Cassandra coolly considered her choice of Commander. He was busily engaged in demonstrating his skills to the new recruits, his body automatically blocking blows and bringing his sword down with devastating accuracy. She was pleased and yet, and yet, that niggle worried her. There was something he was not telling her and it made her anxious. Of course it did; he was her friend.

*********************************************************

The new companions had begun to unwind, a few small victories no doubt easing their fears a little. As ever, Varric was busy needling Cassandra who’d only stayed to keep a careful watch over the Herald:

“It made sense that Leliana did the recruiting when you started up; not everyone can be intimidated into signing up.” Varric raised his eyebrow at Cassandra. She was determined not to rise to the challenge.

“I recruited Commander Cullen.” She replied calmly.

“Lucky him.”

“He has made no complaints about my lack of manners.”

“How did you recruit him exactly?” The Herald asked, keen to learn as much as she could about her new companions.

“You may have heard about the mage uprising in Kirkwall.”

“There’s few who haven’t.” The Herald responded.

“It was devastating to mages and Templars alike.”

“And any other poor bastard who made Kirkwall their home.” Varric interrupted.

“Precisely. But events could have taken a far graver turn had Cullen not resisted Knight- Commander Meredith demands for immediate extermination of any mage and their associates.”

“And it could have been a lot less grave if he’d had the balls to do it sooner.” Varric countered. This was a familiar argument for them both, and although their words were provocative their tone was not. If anything they both sounded tired.

Having heard his name, Cullen slowed his movements, eager to hear their tale. Wincing when Varric criticised his behaviour; smiling when Cassandra defended him. He was, by nature, a humble man and to hear his career being discussed so openly made him blush.

“And now, as you can see, Cullen is a valued associate.” Cassandra’s account drawing to an end.

“Most people refer to their ‘associates’ as friends, perhaps you’re unfamiliar with the concept?”

Cullen had been listening to the developing conversation with unease. He’d always found Varric entertaining but there were unnecessary barbs in his words that were aimed to hurt. 

Cassandra was offering calm retorts to each attack, yet it still angered Cullen to hear Varric goading her like this in front of the Herald. 

He beckoned the nearest recruit, whispered something quickly and then dismissed her. He began rolling his shoulders in preparation for the fight.

Cullen’s messenger approached the fireside group, and cleared her throat:

“Commander Cullen said you were welcome to take part in the drills Lady Cassandra.”

“Was he being sarcastic?”

“Do you want me to answer that?”

“No. I’ll call his bluff.” She welcomed the invitation to leave the irritating dwarf behind.

“Commander, I am here at your order.” She grinned at him before noticing that the recruits had finished training for the evening, “Oh, but the drills are ended.”

He chuckled: “I hope you don’t mind, I thought you might welcome the distraction. I could see Varric’s stories were…”

“Infuriating?”

“Perhaps. I’m sorry I lured you over here under false pretences.”

“I’m not sorry. Besides, just because the recruits have stopped doesn’t mean we have to. Care to spar, Commander?”

“Always.” He said a little too quickly, attempting to smooth it over with a joke: “Although I am a little anxious, I hear you’re out of practice dummies?”

“You should be anxious; your sources are correct.” She quickly replied.

They were soon in minimum armour, circling each other in the makeshift training circle. The dancing shadows cast by the numerous camp fires created disorientating shapes, not least across their faces, as they stared each other down.

Cassandra raised her claymore to gather momentum, Cullen ducked easily out of her way. She was impressed at his speed considering his bulk, but she was now a little closer to understanding her adversary and adopted a different strategy.

She raised an arm again, immediately elicting the same reaction but instead of following through with the movement she brought the blunt pommel down to Cullen’s side, almost winding him. 

His eyes narrowed, his breaths quickening as he quickly rebuffed her with his shield, and she staggered back before retaliating with swift blows, each one blocked readily.

He turned on her next, pushing forward again and again with a hypnotic parry of sword and shield, she could hear tight breaths through his gritted teeth and was momentarily dazed. He took the advantage to easily throw her. She cried out, his arm catching around her to prevent her falling on her face. Her muscles flexed beneath her tunic where his large hand gripped her. She made a disapproving noise and shrugged him aside.

They continued swiping and blocking, although their cheeks flushed it was clear from their carefree expressions that they were well matched neither party finding the joust particularly challenging. 

Cullen lowered his shield for a moment, Cassandra seized the opportunity and swept her blade for a body blow which sent him spinning. 

He hit the ground with a grunt, but when he turned to look at her she was relieved to see he was not put out. In fact, he was smiling:

“I get the impression you needed that.” He said through deep breaths. She slumped next to him on the ground, their weapons lying idly by.

“You have no idea.”

“Seeker…”

“Cassandra.”

“Cassandra, you shouldn’t let Varric’s words bother you.” 

Cassandra snorted “You think I’d pay any heed to that dwarf!?”

“He’s here because of you. Because you’ve made him believe in the cause, you’ve made us all believe.”

“The Herald has given us faith Commander, you give me too much credit.”

“And you give yourself too little.”

“I must be cautious, that is all. But I appreciate your words, Cullen.” He smiled at the sound of his name being spoken with her soft accent.

“It is the very least I can do to repay the many kindnesses you have shown me.” She began to protest, but his words flowed on, silencing her “I was listening to your account of my recruitment. Although we may agree to differ on a few details, it reminded me of the enormous risk you took. In your place I don’t know if I’d have done the same thing.”

“You would have done the right thing Cullen, you always do. Eventually.”

She stood with the smirk fresh on her lips, offering her hand to help him to his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, Cullen wasn't being racist; his heart already belonged to another :)


	2. The Dawn Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Haven is destroyed Cullen and Cassandra both struggle to understand what they should do next.
> 
> The majority of this is supposed to run in parallel to the game play scene post-Haven when the Herald awakes at camp and talks with Mother Giselle.
> 
> If you watch the clips/scenes again this would totally fit it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific prompt this time, just building up the tension and romance between these two :)

“What would you have me tell them? This isn’t what we asked them to do.” Cullen’s voice raised and harsh battered at Cassandra. They’d been arguing the same point repeatedly and yet she found herself sucked into the vortex of their mutual desperation:

“We cannot simply ignore this, we must find a way.”

“And who put you in charge? We need a consensus or we have nothing.” The spite in Cullen’s voice stopped her open-mouthed. For a moment she felt winded, his usual respect stripped away.

“Please we must use reason, without the infrastructure of the Inquisition we’re hobbled.” Josephine swiftly intervened; ever the diplomat.

“Well it can’t come from nowhere!” Cullen raged back, seemingly unstoppable.

“She didn’t say it could.” Leliana sighed.

“Enough, this is getting us nowhere.” Cassandra rejoined, finally summoning the strength to finish their row.

“Well we’re agreed on that much.” Cullen reluctantly conceded, meeting Cassandra’s eyes. As soon as he did so, the steeliness in his own gave way to a quiet despair. He could see her fear and her hurt. The Inquisition she’d built from nothing now teetering toward ruin. 

Leliana and Josephine retired to a bench by the fire; Cullen and Cassandra stayed looking at each other for a moment longer. There was a delicate cord between them being tugged and strained it would either snap or bind them together. Cullen took a step towards her out of instinct:

“Cass…” He breathed, she shook her head and left him standing alone. His isolation bringing him to his senses, had he really been about to gather her into his arms? He laughed bitterly at himself, Cassandra was a warrior and a tactician, a friendly pat on the back would be precisely the last thing that would bring her comfort. 

Cassandra stood, running her hands over the maps before her on the table. Her heart drummed in her ears and, although her eyes scanned the maps frantically, she was blind to their features as her eyes misted. Maintaining steady, deep breaths was consuming all her focus. At the edges of her foggy mind she could sense Cullen fidgeting uselessly: she could hear his ridiculous armour; she could smell the familiar leather and soap; she could almost feel his warmth. 

Damn! A tear fell loudly onto the map, she quickly cleared her throat and smoothed the paper pretending to examine it more closely. When she dared a glance in Cullen’s direction her heart fluttered. His whole body sagged, his eyes closed, his hand rubbing his neck nervously.

There was that familiar cord pulling and tightening again and yet she could not move.

“Shadows fall and hope has fled. Steel your heart; the dawn will come.” 

Cassandra’s breath had quickened as Mother Giselle’s voice resonated within her. She clenched her fists. Steeled her heart.

Cassandra looked at Cullen, his eyes now glazed and furrowed.

“The shepherd’s lost and his home is far, keep to the stars, the dawn will come.”

Leliana’s sweet, pure voice had joined with Mother Giselle’s and a quiet rustling around her alerted Cassandra to the fact that the camp was awake and transfixed as she was.

“The night is long, and the path is dark…” Cassandra gasped when she saw Cullen throw his head back and join with the song. He continued to sing as more recruits, refugees, injured soldiers made their way into the centre of the camp. “Look to the sky for one day soon the dawn will come.”

“Bare your blade and raise it high, stand your ground the dawn will come.” 

The whole camp now buzzed with the voices of man, woman and child united in faith. Cassandra’s voice was too choked with tears to let it join those of her companions but her feet bore her out from behind the table anyway as people began kneeling before the Herald.

“The night is long and the path is dark, look to the sky for one day soon the dawn will come.”

All eyes were on the Herald, all voices raised toward the sky as Cassandra let her tears wash away the tension and fear that had consumed her. 

She did not flinch when Cullen’s hand laced around hers and held tight. She could feel the tremors running through his arm as his deep voice still sung out its devotion to the cause. She squeezed his hand in return conveying her thanks, her apologies, her sheer relief.

Soon the enchantment was over and an excited murmur of conversation gripped the camp with renewed energy and purpose. Cullen slowly opened his eyes and turned to gaze into Cassandra’s. Their rift was healed. He let out a deep, shuddering breath and slowly unwound his fingers from hers frightened to shatter their perfect moment of solidarity.

Soon messengers were darting around again, Leliana and Josephine rejoined them and their plans could be reformed.

The Herald came to them swiftly, her face beaming – apparently they had a new home. She would guide them there.

“It is the Maker’s plan.” Cassandra softly spoke, contrasting with the excitable babble from the Herald. She could feel Cullen’s eyes watching her protectively and felt exposed under his gaze. She couldn’t return his look, she didn’t want to discover what may have been hidden in his gold irises. She was frightened of seeing her own raw feelings reflected back.

***********************************************  
That night had been wondrous, but now that dawn had indeed come the practicalities of their journey had set in and the glare from the winter sun felt intrusive. Too intrusive for Cassandra to allow herself a moment to contemplate the overwhelming emotion she had felt during their song.

She was sure it was the relief of the Herald’s recovery, the joy of hearing about their new home, perhaps even wonder at the demonstration of faith. And yet she knew she’d found herself withdrawing from the Commander, the man who’d been her one true friend before. 

So she found herself lonely, often walking in isolation from the group. Plenty of time to examine her thoughts. Too much time, as she was sure her mind was deliberately taunting her with frivolous distractions.

“Mind if I join you?” Cullen asked, a little breathless from having to run to catch up with her.

“Not at all, Commander.” Cassandra muttered, although she provided no further conversation.

“Ah. So I’m back to being Commander.” Cullen said.

“I know Varric calls you Curly, but I am not one for nicknames.”

Cullen laughed, stealing glances at her whenever he thought he could make it appear natural.

“There is an easy compromise, Cassandra.” He deliberately emphasised her own name, bringing a fresh blush to her cheeks, unless it was the strain of her speeding up to escape him.

“Fine, Cullen.” She replied without friendliness. 

They then continued to walk on in heavy silence, snow crunching underfoot, their breaths ragged. A crowd of half begun sentences swarmed Cullen’s mind, each one immediately rejected as too serious or too frivolous or too scandalous (really, what was wrong with him?) Until eventually his tongue unravelled the truth:

“I’m sorry…”

“I Just wanted to…”

They both spoke at once, immediately giggling and stopping themselves, urging the other to continue. Eventually Cassandra won the argument and Cullen took a deep breath again before he spoke:

“I’m sorry Cassandra for having lost my temper. I was panicking, I thought we may lose everything and I know that a large part of that loss would have been my doing for having failed to protect Haven more adequately. I know it’s not an excuse for my vile temper but, I thought…” He sighed and pinched his nose “Cassandra, you have worked so hard and I just didn’t want to let you down.”

He looked at her beseechingly, her mouth relaxed into a smile.

“No one could have prepared for Corypheus’s attack on Haven, Cullen.” His name now easily restored to her “We know, we both know, the odds are against us but it is our duty to try anyway. We must not lose sight of that again, if the people see us falter then they will falter also.”

“Agreed.” He looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing “And, perhaps I shouldn’t say this but…I was also concerned that, um…”

“Is this about the singing?”

He shot her a look, a look she couldn’t immediately decipher but would spend many, many nights reliving. She spoke quickly to relieve him:

“You have quite the voice.” She teased.

“Maker’s breath. That you could distinguish it from the dozens of others is perhaps testament to its tunelessness.” 

“Cullen, I’ve no time for false modesty.”

“Fair enough. I meant to say that I was worried that I may have damaged our, um, friendship. It would appear that I’ve come to rely on it and I’d like to think you can rely on mine too.”

She didn’t immediately respond. Of course she was relieved that they were friends once again, but…

“Of course Cullen, I think it is a sign of true friendship that you can speak your mind and maintain your respect.”

“Me too.” He smiled, the warmth making her forget that she was knee deep in snow.

They’d been talking for so long, they’d lost their place in the convoy and were now at the back of the group. Suddenly cries echoed to them, one word rippling over and over: Skyhold.

A little breathlessly, Cassandra and Cullen raced toward the sound and peered at the fortress that would be their new home. The Herald was stood atop a rock clearly bewitched by the sight, as their followers cheered and laughed, some shook hands, others embraced.

Caught by the general euphoria, Cassandra and Cullen found their arms pulling the other close. They locked together, so blissfully overjoyed that hope was on the horizon. Cassandra let her head sink into the crook of his neck and inhale the essence of him. This scent would always mean home to her now. Cullen’s face buried into her short hair, and he let a sigh of contentment leave him. 

His fingers flayed against the small of her back as one hand moved to hold her precious face. As they drew apart, their faces remained tantalisingly close, their features undefined and they could feel their breaths mingling before them.

Then as inexplicably as the moment had arrived it vanished and they jolted away from one another. Self-conscious and aware of the milling crowds the Seeker and the Commander immediately slipped back into their official roles and led the expedition to Skyhold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback/kudos/comments very gratefully received.


	3. Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Cassandra lead the group in their difficult ascent to Skyhold.  
> Their night watch becomes romantic!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Using plenty of in game party banter (especially from Varric)  
> The first of many, many misunderstandings arises for the pair!
> 
> Partly inspired by a prompt on the Dragon Age Kink Meme (see below for more details)

The immediate joy at sighting their new home was now had given way to the difficulty in ascending the steep rock face to enter the fortress. Cassandra watched with an awakened interest as Cullen tended to the weaker members of the group. Mother Giselle would no doubt be mortified when she recalled how the Commander had carried her in his arms on the days when her legs gave way.

Cassandra found herself tossing aside daydreams of those same arms bearing her up, rolling the memory of their fleeting embrace over and over until it had become a peculiar mirage. Her senses would become overwhelmed with the memory and she found herself peeling away from the group once again to contemplate what the revelation would mean for their cause.

Volunteering for night watch was easy; she barely slept anyway. By the fire of their evening camp, her eyes swallowed the flames and she allowed herself to wallow in ‘what ifs?’ As if she’d conjured him, Cullen arrived at her side offering her his flask. She smiled with acceptance and allowed him to take a seat beside her. 

For a long while the two sat in silence gazing at the fire, the silence was not awkward but it did feel heavy as his flask was passed between them.

“No singing tonight?” Cassandra began.

“I don’t do requests.” Cullen replied, smirking as she handed him back the flask. He took a long gulp before licking his lips, preparing to speak again. “Skyhold. Is it just me or does even the very name conjure hope?”

“It is not just you.” She put her hand down to her side to rest against the rock they were both perched on, immediately realising she was resting on his hand instead. She went to withdraw it out of instinct but his gloved hand gently caught hers and stilled her. 

“Are you cold?” He asked, voice rasping. 

“No.” Her voice was full of shivers but her face burned.

“Good.” He continued as he cautiously began pulling her fingers free from her armoured gloves. Once her hand was bare he simply held it for a moment before holding it up in both of his large hands. He ran a thumb over the back of her knuckles. Knuckles that were knotted and scarred from having been broken countless times. 

He held her gaze as he brought the battle hardened hand to his mouth and ghosted a kiss across the skin. A moan escaped her lips as the heat of his breath and the harsh rasp of his stubble traced her fingers. 

“Is this alright?” He whispered, eyes filled with vulnerability. It would be so easy to shut this down now, to dismiss his advances and remain his loyal friend. If they continued this game what would happen to their futures, her future, and her ambitions? 

Despite these doubts, her head was nodding at Cullen and his face was relaxing into a crooked smile. And then that smile was so close, so close she couldn’t help but bring her naked hand tremblingly to his face and run it over his jaw as his lips met hers with a surprising lightness.

Their bodies froze as their lips gently pressed against each other. Gradually with an unexpected delicacy, their lips slowly began to move, opening and pressing, the friction allowing her to feel more of that delicious stubble as their tongues tentatively flickered. Their first kiss like their first spar, all false threats and quick strokes until they pulled away; the sudden gasps deafening to them.

Neither had the words for the experience they’d just shared. Apologies or demands unnecessary between them. Sensing this, Cullen tenderly leant into Cassandra’s palm, still cupping his face before drawing it away and trailing more of the butterfly kisses across her hand. He then gently regloved each finger, laying her hand beside her once more as he stood to leave.

He stood hesitantly in front of her for a moment, debating whether to stay before giving a decisive nod and making his way back to his tent. 

Once he was out of sight, Cassandra’s hand flew to her lips she touched them with awe. If she had any doubt about her future before, this had settled it. Cullen had clearly made his claim on her and she was very happy to reciprocate it.

*********************************  
Her thoughts were interrupted by Varric swearing behind her, she turned to look at him and grinned when she saw he was lifting his beloved crossbow out of the snow. 

“She’s not injured I hope?” Cassandra asked.

“Nothing life threatening.” Varric replied, easily swinging the weapon onto his back.

“I hope you were as attentive to her namesake.” Cassandra quipped. Varric tensed a little, his reply terse:

“Have we reached the stage where we gossip about each other’s love lives? You brought up Bianca so does this mean that I can ask you about your conquests?”

Cassandra’s mouth went dry; although he was busy speaking with Leliana, Cullen was well within earshot.

“I’d rather you didn’t.” She said carefully.

“So you don’t have feelings for someone, say within…”

“No.”

“Really, no one at all? Seeker, are you blushing? The world really is coming to an end!”

“I have no conquests.”

“No? What about dalliances, liaisons, illicit affairs?”

Cassandra make a disgusted sound, Varric chuckled and let her stride away from him.

Cassandra’s strides took her past Cullen, whom she didn’t dare look at. It didn’t stop him looking at her though.

He’d long stopped listening to Leliana’s words, giving simple automatic answers as he soaked up Cassandra and Varric’s conversation.

‘No conquests’ the words were ringing in his ears. 

Cassandra had told him before that her chosen path had given her little time for romance and he knew he shouldn’t be surprised that a dedicated Seeker such as Cassandra had shunned relationships before. But to have had no conquests at all...No, in fact, he shouldn’t be thinking about this.

And yet, she always appeared to be so confident and as her hips swayed in front of him he could just imagine. No, why was he imagining it? 

He was shocked by the revelation yet, as the idea began to settle, he was partially relieved. At least if they did…do that, she’d be as equally clueless as him. In fact, the more he thought of it the more relieved he became; they could take their time, his own inexperience wouldn’t be so mortifying, they could discover something new together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the beginning of a prompt fill for this request:  
> "So I noticed all these Cass is a virgin prompts, which is amusing since her romance reveals she isn't. I'd like to turn that on its head: Cass and her LI are getting to the point in their relationship where they are ready to do the naked tango but haven't discussed each other's romantic history. Instead LI has assumed Cass is inexperienced, Cass assumes LI has done the deed loads of times, but it turns out the opposite is true: LI is a virgin and not Cass."
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/12606.html
> 
>  
> 
> Any comments/kudos/feedback very gratefully received.
> 
> More to come tomorrow :)


	4. Finding a place to rest your head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Cassandra settle into Skyhold. 
> 
> More misunderstandings for this adorable pair but it is building up to some pretty explosive sexy times. 
> 
> Trust me...about one/two chapters away :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just an echo of the previous chapter, trying to establish the central misunderstanding between Cullen and Cassandra that will build up to the resolution.
> 
>  
> 
> Please let me know what you think - comments/kudos are very much appreciated.

Though impressive in scale, the widespread disrepair of the fortress made the allocation of living quarters challenging. Even crucial members of the Inquisition were forced to bed down in corners of stairwells, taverns even the stables. Tents filled the courtyard and Cullen could see the Inquisitor frowning with embarrassment as she was forced to occupy the best rooms (“It is not a luxury Inquisitor, it is good for morale.” Josephine had reassured.) 

Cullen had immediately established a work area and had scarcely thought of where he would sleep, after several hours of poring over reports he made his way to the new forge to inspect the supplies. He’d thrown down his sword on the table and was beginning to examine other blades.

Turning to hear a noise above, he smiled when he recognised the voice swearing as furniture was moved.

“Cassandra?” He called up the wooden steps.

Cassandra quickly came to the top of the steps to spy the intruder, her face relaxing a little when she recognised Cullen.

“Can I help at all?” Cullen asked.

“Maybe if you’d been here five minutes ago.” She laughed, wiping her hands, indicating with a tilt of her head that he should come up and admire her efforts. He didn’t need persuading as he clattered up after her.

“Oh!” He exclaimed when he saw her simple chair and desk and, in the corner, a bed. He swallowed. 

“What do you think?” She asked.

“I..uhm…” Cullen looked around briefly, not quite believing what Cassandra was apparently suggesting. “You’re sleeping in the forge?” He opted for pleasant conversation rather than what his body very obviously wanted to do.

“It’s practical at least. It’s where I will mostly be needed.”

“True.” Cullen’s mouth and brain were no longer completely connected. “But, it’s hardly private.”

“Privacy is a luxury few of us can afford at present. Besides, I should be grateful I have found my own space at all. I hear many are sharing quarters. Are you?” 

Cassandra was merely making conversation and she didn’t really know why. All the time they’d been talking she could have pulled him to her for another kiss, it had been too long since the last one they’d shared by the fire. Cullen stood awkwardly before her though seemingly in no mood to reignite their tentative relationship. 

“Sharing quarters? Actually, I’ve no idea where I’ll be sleeping, but it hardly matters; I don’t get much sleep anyway, and I’m used to sharing.” 

Cullen’s mouth was still rambling as he looked around at every part of the room rather than directly into Cassandra’s eyes. The temptation to take advantage of this quiet moment together was overwhelming yet there was still such a distance between them.

If he had looked up he would have seen Cassandra’s eyebrows slightly raised in surprise at his apparent frankness, and yet her body had begun to relax, her hands gently settling on her hips.  
His eyes drifted across the space, before meeting hers and the way she looked at him made him feel exposed. Not an entirely unpleasant feeling but enough to make his breath catch as it escaped his throat.

Just as the tension began to build in the infinite space between them, a noisy clatter of recruits outside shook their attention.

“I should get back to training.” Cullen muttered.

“Of course.” Cassandra replied with little conviction. 

Cullen swept past her, brushing dangerously close as he passed her. At the top of the stairs, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, Cassandra watched his back with longing as he clenched and unclenched his fists, before she spoke:

“Cullen, if you need to…” Her words were cut short by the heat of his body suddenly pressed against her, her face caught tenderly in his hands as their lips pressed together with force. Her fingers slowly snaked around his hips to anchor her to the present. Their tongues daring to flicker between them, as soft moans escaped their mouths.

Eventually, Cullen pulled away and held her face still, looking at her intently as if searching for answers. She let him look.

“I’m sorry, that was…really nice.”

“Nice?” She scoffed “I think you need to widen your vocabulary Commander.” Cassandra grinned at him, suddenly looking younger and more hopeful than Cullen had ever seen her look before.

“Very true.” He chuckled. “I’ll work on that.” He brought his lips to hers once more, a chaste warm kiss that he then echoed on her forehead and on her cheek, finally on her hand before making his departure.

Cassandra was left trembling, questioning once again if she hadn’t just dreamt the encounter. She wondered if he knew what he did to her. 

Of course he did, smooth bastard, she thought. Hadn’t he just practically bragged that he was used to sharing women’s beds? Although the thought stung her heart for a moment she knew that it was only natural that a handsome soldier would attract his fair share of romance.

In fact, as her logical mind ran over the implications further she felt a wicked thrill at the idea of his experienced, large hands moving from holding her face to stroking her neck, and then…No. she wouldn’t allow herself to indulge such fantasies when there was such important work to be done. Besides, hopefully she wouldn’t have to wait too long before enjoying the experience for herself.

************************************

‘Expanding my vocabulary’ suddenly took a strangely urgent place on Cullen’s extensive to-do list, as he scanned the shelves of the library. He’d noticed the small stack of tomes on Cassandra’s desk and wondered whether he could find the same here. 

“A common stance of the courtly lover is long-suffering endurance of the coldness of an unapproachable, unyielding high noble lady whom he serves in the vain hope of someday winning her love. Love is suffering, sickness, and a magic spell that imposes patience and endurance on the lover.” Dorian’s voice read quietly to him from his seat.

“What is that?”

“Courtly love. An antiquated practice apparently quite popular in some parts of the world, say Antiva or Nevarra. I have to say I find the concept ridiculous.”

“Quite.” Cullen continued reading the spines in ahead of him “Wait, Nevarra?”

“Mmm. Why?”

“No reason.” Cullen went back to studying the bookcase once again, feigning idle curiosity as he continued: “It’s probably wise to be aware of the varying customs and traditions of the diverse group we’ve gathered here. Josephine repeatedly tells me how vital such information could be.” 

Dorian was impressed, Cullen apparently could play the game. Perhaps he’d be invited to join them at Wicked Grace soon, if he could just control that adorable blush.

“The lover, held at bay by his lady, is made to polish his speech, his manners, and his virtues to a high standard of courtly excellence. He is denied her love until he passes her tests.” Dorian continued in his storyteller role.

“What sort of tests?” There was no hiding his interest this time.

“I really couldn’t say Commander, you’ll have to read for yourself.”

With that, Dorian pushed himself out of his chair and shoved the book into Cullen’s hands. As he began to swagger away, he called back over his shoulder: “You can thank me later.”  
Cullen didn’t hear him; he was already absorbed in a world of new vocabulary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As with previous chapter, this is in response to the kinkmeme prompt about Cassandra not being a virgin but her LI is....both are mistaken!
> 
> Also introducing the fluffy romance/courting that will bring these two together :)


	5. Courtly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen attempts his own version of courtly love...needless to say it doesn't exactly go to plan.
> 
> Mainly to fulfil, this kinkmeme prompt:  
> "I would really like to see a fic that has Cassandra and Cullen as a romantic couple. I feel like they have a lot in common; both have spent most of their lives devoted to some branch of the Chantry, only to find that their respective orders weren't quite as honourable as they first thought. Both of them are adorkably awkward when it comes to romance. Plus, there must be a lot of trust and closeness between them if Cullen asked Cass to help monitor his lyrium withdrawal. I haven't seen anything with the two of them, so I would love to see these two get together. 
> 
> +++ if you can somehow keep the bit about Cassandra being courted, and the poetry reading scene with the flowers and candles. I feel like Cullen would be all over the idea of formal courtship, because it means that there are rules and guidelines, rather than him muddling around like a buffoon. (part 5 pg16)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The extracts from sonnets come from Edmund Spenser (Cullen) and Elizabeth Barrett Browning (Cassandra)

Flowers? Cassandra frowned at the wilting bouquet that stood on the table in the forge. The poor blooms may have been pretty when they were fresh but by the punishing heat of the hearth they sadly drooped over the lip of the jug serving as a vase.

She sighed a little at the marred gesture before noticing a scrap of paper beside the vase:

"When I behold that beauties wonderment,  
And rare perfection of each goodly part,  
Of nature’s skill the only complement,  
I honour and admire the Maker’s art"

Cassandra gasped and dropped the paper as if it were on fire. 

Even after reading it for the tenth time that day it brought a blush to her cheek.

**********************

They had been wading through marsh for hours, the occasional member of the undead being cut down quickly. The group’s mood sombre but, next to her heart, Cullen’s words warmed her. They also unsettled her, she’d not seen him to thank him and increasingly felt that she would have to respond with her own words. Words. That was the problem. Cassandra was a woman of action, preferring to support more powerful orators and leaders. She couldn’t approach this quest as she did many others. 

She’d fallen into step alongside her companions, and was unable to prevent her mouth from voicing her questions:

“How do you write as you do Varric? I can never find the words.”

“You?”

“I need to write…reports. They always come across as…”

“Dry, boring, lifeless, stale.”

“You are an ass.”

“Just helping you to find those…words.”

“Snake, liar, dwarf…Shall I continue?”

“You’ve made your point Seeker. Very eloquent, can’t see why you’d need any help at all.”

Cassandra made a frustrated sound, as always her familiar animosity towards Varric prevented her from asking him for help. He couldn’t help but take pity on her:

“You know, a little vulnerability isn’t always a bad thing. Just admitting you find putting your thoughts into words is quite…endearing.”

“Really? I imagine Josephine would have something to say about that.” She rolled her eyes imagining the honeyed words and veiled promises the ambassador filled her days with. 

“Sure, but the ambassador is doing Inquisition business not composing personal correspondences.”

“Varric, I never said..!”

“Hey, you might hate me but at least you know I can keep a secret.”

“Well you’d better or I will kill you for real this time, and I don’t hate you, Varric. That’s another secret by the way.” She shot him a playful glance, enjoying their fragile friendship.

“Glad to hear it, Seeker.” Varric chuckled before lowering his volume and continuing: “wilt thou have me fashion into speech the love I bear thee?”

“What? Why are you…?”

“Shhhh. Just listen…”

Cassandra did listen, and listened a second time with words hurriedly scribbled during a moment at camp that night.

*************************************************************

Cullen was negotiating new supply lines when a tightly folded message was delivered without word. When he finally read the words they immediately flew to his open heart and remained there while he endeavoured to devise his next move. Panicking that words would not be enough this time, he returned to the book Dorian had foisted upon him (now hidden among the dry histories on his personal bookshelf) and frowned at the idea of gift giving. What could he possibly give Cassandra that would represent the depth of his love for her? For it was love, he could freely acknowledge it to himself. Acknowledging it out loud to Cassandra herself may be a much greater challenge.

********************************************************

Scout Harding greeted the damp group as the trudged toward her at the camp on the outskirts of the Fallow mire. 

“Greetings Inquisitor. I’d like to tell you that it wasn’t always this wet here but I’m not going to lie to you, this is the wettest, most miserable place I’ve had the misfortune to camp in.”  
“Well that’s encouraging.” The Inquisitor replied.

As the two caught up, a messenger slipped a package into Cassandra’s hands. When she was alone in her tent that evening, she immediately tore the paper open and then squealed, dropping the item to the floor.

***************************************  
Training was going well, recruits ably demonstrating the range of formations needed in forthcoming battle. Cullen could almost be described as relaxed (or as close to relaxed as he was ever going to muster). The calm was crushed by the Inquisitor and her party returning swiftly through the gates. There had been no warning for their arrival and the suddenness immediately put Skyhold on alert. 

Once the war council had gathered, the Inquisitor drew a deep breath before explaining their return.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you, we received a threat. A direct threat, seemingly targeting Lady Cassandra.”

“What?!” Cullen roared, the others immediately frowning, sharing his concern.

“We thought it best to return here, both for her personal safety and to seek your advice. Leliana who do you know who would target Cassandra directly?”

“Nobody. Or rather, there are too many possible culprits, though none seem likely to make a direct threat as you describe it.”

“What form did the threat take?” Josephine asked.

“She received a package. An item of significance, I did not understand it myself but Cassandra assures me that in Nevarra this would be considered a token, a sign, that the receiver was marked for death.”

The Inquisitor brought the package out of her bag and carefully unwrapped it onto the war table.

“Maker preserve me!” Cullen announced.

“You know what this means?” The Inquisitor asked.

“Yes, I mean, no, I don’t know why it would be considered a threat. Dragons are a sign of power and strength, a source of pride for the Pentaghast clan.” Cullen’s face was reddening at the dreadful confusion his gift had wrought, but to admit it here would be to admit his attachment to Cassandra. 

“That is true, although to present the dragon in this form may suggest a lack of respect.” Josephine added thoughtfully.

“Although, now I look at it more closely, I cannot see how it presents a direct danger. Perhaps it is a gift from a well-wisher? Even a fellow Seeker looking to lend their support?” Leliana added. Cullen let out a breath, pleased that the situation seemed to be calming itself naturally.

“But then why was there no note?” The Inquisitor asked.

“There was.” Cullen blurted before he could stop himself, he had to force himself to continue now all eyes were on him: “I mean, look, there is a note.”

He took the gift in his hands and extracted his embarrassingly sentimental note. The women crowded him to read over his shoulder. When the meaning became clear there were gentle laughs and tuts at some clunky rhymes. Cullen set his jaw and willed the painful moment to pass without giving himself away by justifying his choice of imagery.

“So a well-wisher it is, how romantic.” Jospehine smiled.

“Romantic? I think it’s odd, I wouldn’t like to be in Cassandra’s shoes with a crazed stalker like this.” The Inquisitor snorted, pointing at the object now safely back in Cullen’s hands.

“Well, at least we know there is no threat. I’ll return these to Lady Cassandra. Perhaps she’ll appreciate the gesture.” Cullen packed away, trying to convey a casual air as he strode from the room.

“Well it is the thought that counts.” Josephine said.

“Bloody weird thought – that!” The Inquisitor laughed as Cullen sped from the room.

Cullen went directly to the forge where he found Cassandra, cross armed in front of the fire. Bull sat close by, clearly as a protector. Cullen’s initial plan to soothe Cassandra’s worries was thwarted by the Qunari’s presence.

“Lady Cassandra, I’m sorry to hear you were distressed on your travels.”

“I was not distressed, I was furious. Do you know what I was sent?”

“Ah, yes, I have it here.” Cullen stepped forward.

“Can I see?” Bull stood, excited by the rumours he’d caught.

Both Cassandra and Cullen immediately answered: “No!”

“So, as good as that eh? Shit, I thought Varric was exaggerating!” Bull laughed as he left the forge.

“Maker’s breath Cassandra, I had no idea…I’m so sorry that I offended you, I just thought that as a warrior and…”

“You?!” She fumed, eyes widening.

“If you’d just read the note!”

“How is this my fault? Do you have any idea how insensitive it is to…”

“Well obviously I do now.” He smirked, shaking his head. This was not in the least how he’d imagined their reunion. His smile was echoed by Cassandra who sighed. She muttered:

“I did not see that there was a note.”

“Would you like it now?”

“Yes.” She softened her tone and held her hand out, every bit the high born noble lady described in Dorian’s book.

Cullen enjoyed watching her as she read his carefully composed words, her lips moving minutely as she scanned the passionate phrases. When she finished, she smiled warmly at him again before tucking the paper into her jacket, a safe haven alongside his other words.

“Very apt.” She said as she stepped towards him.

He caught her in his arms, her body fitting neatly into all the spaces he left. He kissed the top of her head before quietly reciting the last couplet of his verse:

“So my storm-beaten heart likewise is cheered  
With that sunshine, when cloudy looks are cleared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any comments/kudos very gratefully received :)
> 
> Next chapter will be a retelling of Cassandra's in game romance scene (flowers, poetry, candlelight...the works!)


	6. The Grove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Cassandra meet at the grove for a romantic evening...somewhat helped by Varric's poetry :)
> 
> This is a re-imagining of the Cassandra romance scene in-game so some of the dialogue should be familiar.
> 
> Partly in response to a kinkmeme prompt (see notes below)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a smutty chapter and it will only get smuttier from here...:)
> 
> Please let me know if you love Cullen/Cassandra as much as I do!
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the sonnet is from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's 'Sonnets from the Portugese' alas not mine or Varric's work.

He’d learnt his script, but running the words over in his mind gave him some focus. Anything to distract him from the other implications of inviting Cassandra to meet him here in this grove. When he’d sent the message it’d been the result of relief and a sudden impulse to spend as much time as the Maker would allow with her before she was taken away from him again. But now, standing in the moonlit grove with candles, wine and well-studied poetry he shook. To allay his anxieties he ran the lines over, the words quickly losing their meaning and becoming a chant. If they’d ever had any real meaning (Varric had helped him with this one).

He fell to his knees with a curse once more as the candles were blown out by the night air, as he began to relight them, he spoke his recitation calmly. Almost as a prayer:

“I think of thee – my thoughts do twine and bud  
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree…”

“Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see  
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.” Cassandra finished, having caught him in his moment of contemplation.

“Ah,” He blushed “Varric?”

“Who else?”

They both laughed at their mutual use of the resident wordsmith. They were nothing if not practical. 

He stayed on his knees, transfixed by Cassandra’s beauty in the eerie silver of moonlight. Shadows from numerous candles playing over their features.  
She came to his side and ran her hand over his scarred lip before kissing it gently.

She continued:

“I will not have my thoughts instead of thee  
Who art dearer, better Rather…” 

As she spoke, he caught her hand, interrupting the flow of the verse now laden with meaning once again:

“You are dearer, better than any future I could have hoped for.” He said, kissing her palm longingly.

She smiled at him, again running her fingers of the scar. A good indicator of their time together; she could remember vividly the ripped skin, jagged and ugly when she first laid eyes on the Knight-Captain as he was then. He'd not noticed the injury immediately and would have ignored it if she hadn't hurriedly stitched it as she questioned him. Its pale ghost now taunting her with the minutes, hours and days that had passed since that moment. Which of those moments was the one that led them down this path? 

“Perhaps you couldn’t imagine it because of the pain you were in when we first met.” An image of his bloody face turning towards her through flames at Kirkwall came to both of them. “I didn’t do a very good job I’m afraid.” She stroked the faint scar again.

“Better than if I’d been left to my own devices.” He said honestly. They sat with their legs twisted over one another, hands busy exploring the other’s features. “And these? Your own handiwork?” he asked, gently stroking the vicious scars on her own marble cheeks. Beneath his rough fingers he felt her tense a little.

“I’d prefer not to talk of it.” She said. 

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be; you have not offended me. Maybe another night when it would not ruin the romantic plans you have made.” She tried to keep her voice light but there was an audible tremor, something dark and hurt that laced through her tone. Cullen allowed her the pretence:

“Plans? I have to admit I had no plan beyond spending more time with you. I’d hoped to make amends for my previous attempts at least.”

“So far I am inclined toward forgiving you.” She murmured back before claiming his mouth with hers.

Without the fear of interruption their kiss progressed slowly, their tongues lapping together, breaths harmonising as their hands began loosening the heavy leather and armour that protected them. Occasional breaks to removes stubborn articles only drove them to surge together more violently each time until the pace was almost frantic.

She’d continued undressing until she was topless before him, tired of any barrier between them. His mouth left her delicious lips to taste each new area of skin she exposed to him, her shoulders, collarbone, and her throat (which made her gasp). There was reverence in the way he showered her with his eager affections.

Tongue loosened by the magic of the night, Cullen found the rest of his composed words the only ones he could utter:

“Because, in this deep joy to see…”He traced a long kiss over her pulsing neck making her sigh.

“… and hear thee.” Another moan gratifying him further.

His mouth continued its adoration up her neck, close to her ear so a throaty whisper formed his next words:

“And breathe within thy shadow a new air.” She allowed herself to fall backwards into the grass, his hand cradling her head as the stars watched above.

He sat up over her, his hands tremblingly tracing her sides, his breathing shallow. Cassandra raised herself on her elbows, reaching out with one hand to tug at his shirt which he hesitantly removed. Their hands traced scars and flexing muscles, admiring the intricacies of each other’s flesh with quiet awe. 

Despite his body almost dwarfing hers, she felt a pulsing thrill at identifying the similarities (hard stomach, paling scars, tense shoulders) as well as gulping down her excitement as she considered the novelty of his thick arms, hair scattering across his wide chest, her eyes scanned lower to where the hair darkened and created a tantalising trail disappearing into his waistband, and then…

She forced her eyes to look back at his face. His eyes. His wondrous, golden eyes, pupils shot wide with lust. 

His hands rested lightly on her waist, seemingly waiting for permission which she gave by driving forward and clutching him to her once again. Something rumbled in his chest as her breasts pressed into him and his caution evaporated. Soon his hands were working their way all over her, greedily collecting memories. She bucked beneath him as his stubble grazed and his tongue smoothed every inch of her tight stomach before lightly caressing her breasts.

His hands circled over her nipples, their hardness inviting him to bite and suckle. From the sounds he emitted he seemed to find it as arousing as she, her hands cradling his head as he worshipped her.

Soon the hot rasping of his tongue was working in a rhythm over one nipple, teasing it with his teeth before sucking powerfully; the experience intoxicating. The bawdy stories he’d heard from soldiers had not prepared him for the exquisite joy he felt in serving Cassandra. His body carrying him along by instinct alone, encouraged by the entirely novel sounds he elicited from his lover. 

A shard of clarity ignited his brain at the word ‘lover’ coming to mind. Cassandra had for so long been his friend, his associate, his saviour, but now to be able to add lover to this list of roles she held in his life was overpowering. The pride he felt transferred itself into ever eager action.

When he moved his attention to her other breast, the cold air licking at the wet trail made her hiss. He quickly shot her a concerned look only to find his own breath taken by the radiant sight of her head thrown back, mouth wide, eyes hooded. He quickly set to work, echoing his earlier moves. Cullen had always been a quick learner.

Cassandra’s mind had worked free every knot and anxiety lost to the tender heat Cullen was creating within her. She’d never had a lover commit themselves so wholeheartedly to her pleasure. Through the haze of desire she wondered as to where and how he’d learnt to use his mouth so cleverly before discarding the thought to fully deliver herself into his command.  
Fingers now crept along her waistband, ticklish traces as his tongue continued to lap at her nipples. Her skin trembled under his touch until it became too sensitive and she jolted slightly. Again, his honey eyes met hers as his fingers held her waistband. She nodded, voice lost.

With a moan he pulled her trousers down, rolling the fabric over her long, tanned limbs. He drew a path from her shins and calves up toward her centre again, agonisingly slowly, until his face was hovering above her rapidly moistening smalls. 

The moment stretched and twisted until both of them felt themselves tense with the anticipation. The only words in Cullen’s mind were the last lines of their shared sonnet:

“I do not think of thee – I am too near thee.” The full stop a loud kiss delivered to the centre of her crotch. Her sharp cry of surprise spurring him on to drop many more on and around the flimsy material until its presence seemed obscene and they were quickly discarded.

Light-headed with the scent and heat of her, Cullen practically fell into her wet lips. With a growl, his tongue messily lapped and kissed at every part of her. A fragment of his mind, not overwhelmed by the sensation of her essence surrounding him, wondered for a second time how the bragging of his comrades had failed to detail such bliss.

Her hands clenched into fists by her side, nervous about him seeing her so vulnerable, so exposed and at the same time feeling freer than she could ever remember feeling. In a startlingly short amount of time, Cassandra could feel a sweet burning curling around her bones, snaking through her limbs and flaring intensely at the nub Cullen haphazardly ran his tongue over. Each time his tongue stroked over it her whole body would shudder, her moans more precise. It did not take long for him to respond to her signals and create a pattern, swirling over her opening and up, his tongue curving around her clit throbbing beneath his mouth. That fire began to burn and consume her until her head clouded and she was filling the air with words which could have been praise or damnation but to Cullen’s ears sounded divine.

He held her hips as she rocked against him, letting her drive the pace until she slowed. He drank greedily and deeply, enchanted by the sweet and earthy essence of her. His tongue curled inside her, desperate for more, desperate to delve deeper and, almost unthinkingly, he dragged a finger firmly over her soaking folds. The way Cassandra purred his name as a result, drove him wild to hear the same approval over and over. His fingers ran along the smooth flesh, one finger entering her minutely at first until it was beginning to penetrate her. 

He deliberately restrained himself, his cock twitching in sympathy every time he felt the heat of her core surrounding the tip of his finger mind quickly filling with the sensation of it, how it would feel to be buried deep inside her. Again, he’d grown used to his own hand, his own imagination serving him well until this point. This very moment flooded his senses with why exactly men sometimes killed themselves over a woman, why recruits would spend their hard earned cash in a brothel, why the world was the way it was. A revelation uncurled itself inside him, despite the regret of so many years without knowing this wonderful secret the exhilaration of sharing it with Cassandra was like some Maker given reward. A reward he wouldn’t squander all in one night.

Cassandra was squirming against his teasing hand and mouth, words spiralling uncontrollably in her mind and then spilling from her tongue. He was torturing her in the most exquisite way- his finger so close to where she really wanted to feel him and yet always drawn back just as she could begin to feel how he might fill her. Her bereft moans grew louder each time until her body slammed against him a little harder and suddenly his thick, rough finger was inside her and the world stopped spinning for a moment. The shock of a second orgasm ripped new blasphemous truths from her throat and stunned Cullen to stillness.

She meekly opened her eyes to see Cullen with his beautiful messy curls staring at her, his eyes blazing with something dark that instantly tugged at her. His mouth was swollen and dripping, actually dripping, droplets cooled on her lower stomach as they fell from his reddened chin. He maintained her eye contact as he slowly drew out his finger and brought it to his mouth. He sighed as he licked it clean. He looked absolutely filthy, a look entirely new and entirely attractive. Oh Maker, she thought, I will never be able to work with this man again.  
Her legs began to shake involuntarily, his hands immediately rubbing and smoothing as he lifted his body higher. The weight of him intimidating and protective all at once. She gulped, a little abashed in the sudden silence as he brought his mouth to hers. 

This kiss was different to every kiss they’d shared before; they’d been playing at their relationship up until this point. Their affection had been sincere but chaste, a natural, awkward escalation of their friendship and respect. If she was being honest, they’d both clearly known loneliness and recognised the raw need in one another; this kiss was full of knowledge, they were lovers, friends no longer. It frightened Cassandra but also thrilled her as she tasted Cullen painting her mouth with her own juices. His tongue was more insistent, beating her’s back, making frantic strokes as his cock dug into her thigh.

Before meeting Cullen here, Cassandra had steeled herself. She had made a secret promise that she would not give herself too easily, she cared for Cullen. She wanted him to know she was different to any other woman he’d been with, that she would happily take her time. But now, caged by his massive arms and quivering from his expert tongue, a new recklessness surged through her. Thedas could fall tomorrow, she would not die without taking everything Cullen Rutherford offered her.

Cassandra began to return the roll of his hips, their bodies tightly pressed, sweat pooling between them. She wriggled a little to move one hand down to the lacings that held him out of her reach. There was a little awkward shuffling as Cullen helped her ease his trousers down,(leaving them caught at his knees in their haste), and then she returned her hands to roving his flexing back counting the infinite muscles.

Cullen could feel the hot moisture sticking to Cassandra’s thighs, his cock sliding easily along the toned lines of her legs. He pulled his legs apart, pulling hers together beneath him and simply enjoyed the intimacy of rubbing against her delicious body. One hand laced into hers, pinning it gently by her head as his other stroked her damp hair and face, delighting in the softness of her against her hard warrior’s body. 

He’d been so close to finishing with his face buried between her thighs. So close. Yet he’d had part of his mind alert to her subtle signals, now he could abandon himself to sink the rest of himself in that same place….He bit back a moan, surely he wouldn’t last much longer and they were only kissing. Except they weren’t only kissing, their entire bodies were intertwined, hands lacing, legs rolling, he shifted enough so that his cock could push between her hot, slick thighs and then…

A force dragged a cry from somewhere deep within him as the pleasure of her being enraptured him. He moaned into her mouth, his knuckles white where they clasped her, his body arching and jolting as he spilled himself between her thighs. Though he was not inside her, Cassandra held him, held him so tightly and let his orgasm shake itself free. She was shocked at its suddenness but couldn’t help be impressed with the beauty of seeing him come undone like this in her arms.

Their foreheads pushed together, their breathing harmonising as their eyes gently flickered open. They looked at each other as if waking from the fade; their new knowledge terrifying and wondrous. There would be a word for such a moment, Cassandra thought idly as she let Cullen stare through her. He could read her for all she cared.

The moment gradually broadened so that they were more than their eyes and hands but all the infinite spaces between them began to shiver and pulse drawing their attention once again. Cullen gave her a light kiss, the gesture amusingly innocent after the wonders performed by his mouth earlier. The thought made her chuckle and he returned the laugh until they were both smiling stupidly at one another and containing rounder laughs that would have shattered the moment altogether.

Once he’d settled at her side the air cooled them, and their hands lovingly laced together between them. Cassandra cast a hand around for a kerchief to clean herself with, Cullen soon understanding and helping her, there his familiar blush returned and Cassandra was glad. She’d hate to think that there was nothing left of his former identity.

“I’m sorry…” he began as he shuffled his clothes to find her something appropriate. She snatched the offered garment with a snort.

“I do hope you’re not about to apologise for this Commander. I would hate to think that you regret it.”

“No! No, of course not. Cassandra, that was…you are…” Where words failed, his mouth succeeded as he kissed her again with such heat that she thought for a moment she’d be knocked backward for a second time. Instead he pulled away but held her firm in his arms.

“I love you.” Cullen said simply and clearly, their kiss emboldening him and loosening any last doubts.

“Here, tonight, I believe you.” She choked back, her heart too full to trust this lasting. She couldn’t hold his gaze any longer and began to retrieve her own clothes. She knew she should have told him that she loved him too but the words. The words. Fine on paper, but from her lips…

Cassandra found her small white handkerchief. It was not a practical object, one of the only frivolities she allowed herself during her austere time as a seeker. It was a token from another age. An age when she was a Lady, hair long, manners polished. The handkerchief had her family emblem embroidered finely around its border. She may have happily discarded all the trappings of her old life but she still clung to the honour at its root. 

“Cullen…” she began, he was lying on his back staring at the stars. He turned to her eagerly.

“This was…is, my family emblem. It is the only reminder I have of them, I keep it tucked inside my armour close to my heart. It is foolish but it has, for many years, brought me comfort to know that despite the difficulties that my chosen path has wrought there are some who know me simply as Cassandra. They know my path was chosen for the right reasons and that their love and guidance led me there.” She held it out to Cullen who examined it, the material looking flimsy in his large hands. “I have not thought of them for a long time. But I have thought of you. I know that our time together has been short considering the years we have been on our separate journeys and, Maker forgive me, I fear our time together may be shorter still.” Her words, the words she’d dreaded voicing were choking her now. Cullen knew instinctively that he just needed to listen. It was rare for Cassandra to speak at such length and he would not interrupt her.

“I would very much like you to have it. You can refuse of course, but I would like you to feel the same comfort and guidance with you whenever you may face difficulties as I’m sure you will. It would be naive for me to imagine that I will always be at your side; our paths will often diverge. At least, with this, I can feel that a part of me is with you.”

Cullen’s eyes were beginning to mist as he clutched the handkerchief to him and drew her in for a passionate kiss. Cassandra broke away, lightening the mood with a wry smile. 

“Now, shall I tie it around your arm like the damsels from your book?” she raised an eyebrow.

“I should probably be dressed first. I think the idea of a Lady’s favours would be somewhat undermined by her suitor being naked.” 

Cassandra laughed as she tied it around his wrist anyway. She completed the action by kissing the pulse point of his wrist before Cullen frowned and continued:

“Cassandra, how do you know about the book? Wait, don’t tell me, Leliana?”

“Actually no. Either they are choosing to turn a blind eye or Josie and Leliana haven’t noticed our…courtship.”

“You do surprise me.” And he meant it. “Although, if it wasn’t Leliana, I’m even more disturbed.”

“Don’t be. I have my sources. Discrete sources, that’s all you need to know.”

“Ah. I think I have something that even your sources do not know though.”

“Really?”

During their conversation, the pair had begun to dress leisurely, stealing lurid glances at one another. Now Cullen was almost fully dressed (minus his armour) he drew his hand out of an inner pocket and ran a coin over his knuckles.

“I understand how you feel, about your past, about your family. My brother gave me this the day I left for Templar training.” As Cullen spoke he rolled the coin between his thumb and forefinger its weight and size clearly embedded in him. “It is the only remembrance I have of them. You know how demanding the chantry are of its charges.” Cassandra merely nodded. “I’d like you to have it, for luck.” He smiled although the smile was tight.

“I don’t need luck.”

“We all need luck Cassandra.” He said pressing it into her palm. “Even you. Humour me at least?”

“I would be honoured to.” Cassandra replied replacing the emptiness of her inside breast pocket with the worn Fereldan coin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for this kinkmeme prompt:
> 
> "After going down on Cassandra like a champ, Cullen gets himself off by fucking between her thighs."  
> Started with this but then became a lot more romantic (I think?)  
>  
> 
> Also wanted to maintain the misunderstanding each has about the other's sexual history (I promise the pay off will be worth it!)
> 
> Please let me know if you're enjoying it - any kudos/comments greatly appreciated.


	7. Wicked Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition attends a ball at the Winter Palace - their purpose to thwart an assassination attempt leaves little time for romance.  
> Cullen and Cassandra snatch every opportunity they can.
> 
> I have tried to include a kinkmeme prompt as part of this (see below for details)
> 
> Also, slight spoilers for 'Wicked Hearts' quest from the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying this? :)
> 
> There's some smut in this chapter, some angst as well.

Josephine finished her lecture on diplomacy with a pointed look at Sera and the Inquisitor. Once she’d gone to ensure everything was in place for the formal introduction, the group fidgeted with their formal attire and shuffled their feet. Cassandra was less nervous, more bored. For her, tedious formalities were a part of a life she’d abandoned early and had no wish to recommence, she huffed audibly at the delay.

Almost immediately she felt a quick squeeze on her shoulder, a sign of reassurance from the Commander who’d been preened and perfected for the occasion. She looked at him over her shoulder and he smiled. Poor lamb, she thought, he really had no idea what Josephine had planned for him tonight. She envied his simple background, his lack of formality. 

The trumpet sounded for them to take their place at the top of the grand staircase, one by one they took their place beneath the Empress’s cool glare.

“Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena…” As each of her archaic given names resounded around the hall, she could feel Cullen’s eyes on her. She did not want to become another noblewoman in his eyes; she knew his distaste for titles only too well.

“Get on with it.” She called before she realised she’d been thinking the words. All the advisors turned her way, the death stares from Josephine and Leliana contrasted with the amusement twinkling in Cullen’s hazel eyes. His mouth was twitching with the effort not to laugh.

“Pentaghast. Fourteenth cousin to the King of Neverra nine times removed. Hero of Orlais. Right hand of the Divine.” Cassandra accepted these last honours with more grace; at least these were titles she’d earned through hard work and dedication.

Cullen watched as Cassandra strode the length of the ballroom ahead of him. In his mind, all eyes were on her stately form. The natural elegance she could muster was spectacular when he knew how her body could move on the battlefield – all sharp edges and quick slashes. Then his mind naturally became cruel and toyed with the contrast of the hardness she displayed there with the soft, rolling movements of her body when she lay naked in his arms.

“Ser Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath. Commander of the Inquisition’s forces.”

Hearing his name shocked him out of his reverie – he immediately felt he was being reprimanded for his lascivious mind, then became conscious once again of his surroundings. There was a pause while Cullen considered how he could possibly make his way across the hall in a uniform that was too tight in the first place, now straining further by his hardening cock. Maker, how had he allowed this to happen? 

With short, deliberate steps he held his head high and made the vast walk across the hall. Thankfully, the next name was being announced but he couldn’t help but feel the hunger in the stares that followed him. By the time he’d made it to the raised dais with the others, his face was almost as red as his jacket and his carefully waxed curls were beginning to spring rebelliously. He smoothed a hand over them and loosened his collar. Josephine patted at him like a mother scolding a restless child. He lowered his gaze before raising it to meet Cassandra’s eyes. She looked amused, at least he thought she did until she turned her narrowed eyes on the women already gathering at the bottom of the stairs, his name the only audible part of their conversation.

Cullen took position by an unguarded doorway as instructed by the Inquisitor. There he had easy watch of his troops that mingled throughout the party in addition to being able to block anyone who tried to escape through the garden. It should have been an easy night’s work (Leliana and Jospehine had a far more demanding role) however as masked Orlesians began to surround him, he realised he was effectively trapped. He could hardly reorganise the Inquisition’s defensive strategy because he didn’t like being flirted with.

He began to feel as if he were under some sort of test as question after question bombarded him and at all times, just in the periphery of his vision he could see Cassandra, talking pleasantly to other nobles between quick glances in his direction.

The masked woman had to ask him twice before he registered that another question had been dangled at him:

“Are you married Commander?” 

“I’m…married to my work.” He replied honestly, knowing Cassandra would be able to hear from her corner.

“Still single then..?”

Cassandra heard no reply to this and made a disgusted noise before joining a new conversation that would bear her away from the simpering admirers that surrounded her lover. She knew he was popular, even within Skyhold there were always rumours about him but watching him enjoy the attention was sickening. She leant over the balcony to hide her face from the guests around her, her eye casually following the ebb and flow of the dance floor. Before arriving at the Winter Palace, she’d imagined Cullen leading her in a waltz, she shook the ridiculous fantasy from her mind and turned back to see the Inquisitor now deeply engaged in conversation with Cullen. He was proving to be irritatingly popular tonight.

She feigned indifference as their words reached her once again:

“Who are all these people?”

“I don’t know but they won’t leave me alone. I would ask to move but I know I must be stationed here.”

“Not enjoying the attention?”

“At this stage the headache I’m developing is preferable company.” The Inquisitor laughed before smoothly sidling up to the gathered women.

As Cullen turned back to his post, he slyly raised his hand so that Cassandra’s handkerchief was visible tightly wound around his wrist, his hand stroking his chin in a thoughtful gesture. He swept the room with his gaze until it fixed upon her. Her breath caught; he knew she’d been there all along. Smug bastard, she thought as she shook her head returning his pleased smirk and raising her glass across the room in a faint toast.

Cullen’s relief at seeing a familiar face amongst these hostile vipers was swiftly unnerved by the Inquisitor beckoning him and the other advisors together. 

The game had begun…

****************  
“Sera, dance with me.”

“I don’t…you be careful or I will absolutely stomp your pinky.”

“Is that innuendo?”

“No, it’s up the front!”

Beside him, Cassandra groaned at the elf’s filthy tongue. They watched together as the Inquisitor swept Sera into her arms confidently before immediately breaking into a high tempo jig. The two squealing with laughter.

“You know, I thought we might find a moment to dance tonight.” Cassandra said wistfully.

“Between assassinations and arrests, I don’t know how it slipped my mind.” Cullen’s words were playful but there was a bitterness also. He’d been repelled by the spectacle of a family tearing itself apart for a throne and was still reeling from the shock of the ball continuing as if there weren't a line of bodies in an upstairs makeshift morgue. 

“You’re right, it was foolish.” Cassandra said, but her eyes still watched the couple on the balcony. Cassandra watched them; he watched her. He could see beneath the tightness of her smile that she desperately wanted to enjoy a moment of romance, frivolity, normality even as the weight of the Inquisition bore more heavily upon her day by day.

“Lady Cassandra, I may never have another chance so I must ask. May I have this dance?” He made a show of bowing with his offer, aware that they were visible to all guests, decorum essential.

“I thought you didn’t dance.”

“For you, I’ll try.” He smiled as her hand fell into his gloved palm and she was swept confidently into his hold.

He had been telling the truth on two counts: One, he really didn’t dance and two, he really did try. There were false starts and hesitations, his hand shifting uneasily on her back as he struggled to find the right hold until eventually (when he’d practically spun them into a corner) she took pity on him.

“Thank you Commander, you fulfilled your word. No more.” She shook her head, laughing kindly. Luckily, he looked relieved rather than offended and kissed her hand to conclude their waltz. 

As her hand parted from his lips, the seclusion of their location became obvious to them and she tugged his jacket toward her until his lips crashed into hers. She could taste the sugar of the dainty cakes on his tongue as she devoured him, wine emboldening her. Seeing him fawned over by half the court had made her possessive and she would claim him, here against this pillar if necessary. His hands cupped her ass dragging her closer against his body as they continued to kiss like teenagers in the shadows of their first ball. As one of her legs began to snake around his, and his body responded all too readily he found the resolve to break away realising how disastrous a display like this would be for the Inquisition:

“May I escort you to your room?” Seeing the way her eyebrow shot up, he quickly added “For safety?”

“Do you think I’m incapable of defending myself?” Cassandra looked mock aghast.

“Not at all, especially after seeing you take down at least six would-be assassins. I was hoping you’d defend me from all the groping deviants who pass for nobility here.”

“Such a pity you scorn our noble houses Commander, you do realise that I’m 78th in line to the Nevarran throne?”

“And I’m 7th in line to the Rutherford Empire Madam; your claim doesn’t impress me.” He rumbled, kissing the irresistible patch of skin below her ear. Her laugh becoming a moan as his lips brushed over her skin.

Taking a moment to smooth their appearances once again, they slipped out of the shadows and headed toward the guest quarters.

**********  
At the door to her shared room they lingered, hands lightly laced. Music still curling through the corridors as if they hadn’t just been the scene of backstabbing and murder. The effect was uncanny.

Her hand hovered on the door handle as she turned to look at her handsome escort once again.

“Goodnight Ser Cullen Rutherford.” She crooned, her smile a bright flash across her dark looks.

“Goodnight Cassandra.” He kissed her hand “Allegra” He kissed her cheek. “Portia” kissing her other cheek as she turned her face willingly for him “Calogera” His lips favoured her forehead as he stumbled over the pronunciation making her giggle “Filomena” His hand wound through her hair as he kissed beneath her ear again, adding in a whisper “That’s my favourite name.” 

Cassandra nudged him, knowing he was teasing and enticing him to respond more roughly to her as he concluded her name “Get-on-with-it” he raised her chin gently with his hand kissing it lightly before her final name “Pentaghast” was swallowed by a full kiss on the mouth. His soft lips slanted over hers pressing more firmly until she opened her lips to him and her tongue lapped against his.

When they paused for breath, Cassandra rested her hands on his shoulders and breathed out with contentment. She bit her lip for a moment, clearly considering her next move before resolving it:

“Do you know who I’m sharing my quarters with?” She asked, a glimmer dancing in her dark eyes.

“I know who you’re, sadly, not sharing quarters with.” He teased back, pulling her hips a little tighter against his.

“Well that would hardly be appropriate now would it Commander? Not if Jospehine and Leliana want to convince the Orlesians that you are Thedas’s most eligible bachelor.”

“Andraste preserve me!” He grumbled.

“Whereas I can legitimately share a room with the Inquisitor with no one batting an eyelid, I am her sworn protector.”

“I don’t think she’ll be coming to join you anytime soon Cassandra, certainly not if Sera has anything to do with it.”

They were dancing around an unspoken invitation Cassandra’s hand returning repeatedly to the door testing her willpower. Eventually their words vanished and they were kissing once again, her hand opened the handle behind her and they stumbled into the room.

The opulence of the suite immediately stopped Cullen in his tracks, he felt like an intruder and couldn’t help but gawp at the luxurious trappings provided for a guest. Cassandra quickly drew back his attention by shoving him toward the bed until his knees hit the mattress and he sunk into the feathery quilt. She glided closer still, neatly shimmying her body between his legs as his hands clutched at her thighs and pulled her closer still.

Toppling over together, Cullen jolted as he felt something digging into his back. His hand searched beneath the blankets to find the offending article (a book with a very lewd cover). He would have thrown it to the side, assuming it was the Inquisitor’s, had Cassandra not gone bright red and shot her hand out to claim the item, with a startled: 

“No!”

Cullen kept it in his hands, pretending to offer it as Cassandra desperately struggled to clutch it until they were jostling on the bed, laughing and nudging each other aside. Eventually they came to a truce, their breaths heavy, Cullen pinned beneath Cassandra’s thighs. But he still had the book in his outstretched hands and every time she leaned to grab it her body stretched enticingly over him.

“What it is?” He asked.

“It’s literature” He smirked at her, clearly not convinced, she sighed “…smutty literature.” She hid her face in her hands as he began to laugh.

“’Swords and Shields’ by Varric Tethras. Well, well…” Cullen shook his head, pretending to disapprove, his delighted grin undermining his efforts.

“It’s just research!”

“Research you take to bed with you? How diligent.”

She growled her irritation and lunged for the book again, this time Cullen swung his free arm up around hers and spun her so that she fell to the bed next to him. He took advantage of the moment to reverse their positions so that he now straddled her, her hands resting on his thighs, her face quickly replacing some of its anger with something else. 

Cullen gave her a quick kiss before clearing his throat and letting the book fall open. From the ease at which the pages parted Cassandra knew immediately which part of the novel it was and her blush returned once again.

“The guardsman unlaced his breeches, revealing his mighty…sword.” Cullen read, eyes widening at the euphemism. Beneath him Cassandra groaned and wriggled to free herself but they were well matched and Cullen didn’t feel like releasing her just yet. He regained his composure quickly, reading on further:

“Oh Knight-Captain, I have wanted you for so long.”

“Enough!” She yelped, he shook his head as he answered:

“I don’t think the guardsman has had enough.”

Cassandra tutted and nudged Cullen in the ribs, briefly knocking him of balance, just a small opportunity, but enough for her to swing her legs free of him and roll on top of him once again. He let her feel victorious – he still had the book, and spoke hurriedly as she wrestled him.

“The guardsman plundered her mouth, as his hands surveyed her beautiful curves.” Although his voice was still teasing it had become huskier and one of his hands fell free to echo the description as he read.

“The Knight-Captain undulated against him, her hips pulling his…thick desire into her.” Cullen began to feel dizzy as Cassandra’s hips rocked against his own pelvis, his voice sounding remote and gravelly, his hand grasped more tightly at her thigh.

“I want you to…um…” Cullen stumbled at the next phrase.

“Say it.” Cassandra commanded, her face nuzzling into his neck. This may have begun with her as the victim of his teasing but their roles had switched as fluidly as their bodies had moments earlier. Cassandra’s breathing hot on his face as his eyelids flickered. He swallowed as she nipped at his ear and steeled himself to continue:

“Take me.” He finished, Cassandra’s hands were now snaking inside his jacket. So much easier than his usual armour, her cool fingers quickly scratched at his chest and his arm fell to his side, the book lolling forgotten in his fingers. 

Cassandra tugged at his chest hair to pull back his focus.

She demanded once again:

“Don’t stop.”

With a sharp inhale, he flew into action grabbing her thighs to turn her before opening her own sash and jacket without preamble. Her smile curled mischievously over her face at the vision of his dark pupils swallowing the sight. She allowed him a moment before prodding him, reminding him to continue.

“The Guardsman held his beloved in his arms and…fucked…her.” The obscenity voiced with such hesitancy, immediately made Cassandra moan and pull Cullen into her arms. Their kissing lost any semblance of finesse, teeth clashing and tongues battling, noisily filling the opulent room with their gasps. 

As their mouths clamped tightly together, their hands worked over each other’s bodies until they were both tugging at each other’s laces and then their fingers dove into their partner’s smalls. The delighted shock making them pull away from the kiss with a loud groan.

Cassandra’s hand wrapped around Cullen’s hard, pulsing cock as she rolled her finger over the head spreading the hot liquid over him before she began to move. His eyes were clenched shut, lips worried between his teeth. She felt immensely proud of how quickly she’d created his expression and did not want to ruin it with an ill-timed joke about his ‘mighty sword’ however tempting it felt.

Cullen’s hand stroked instinctively over her slick folds; broad, languid strokes in time with her own pumping hand – too distracted with his own pleasure to vary the pace or force. Cassandra pushed her body against his hand, desperate for greater fiction. She bucked against him a couple of times before he read her signals and began to push down with the flat of his palm on her clit, circling and allowing her to grind against him. 

“Why didn’t you keep the key?”

“I don’t need a key Stupid, look.” 

The voices were quiet and it took a moment for Cassandra and Cullen to register them. When they did they froze briefly before jerking their hands away from each other and the bed. Their eyes stared stupidly at the rattling door handle that Cassandra had, thankfully, locked. Sera and the Inquisitor giggled naughtily outside the door, the erratic scrape of a lockpick indicating their drunkenness. 

“Window.” Cassandra whispered urgently as Cullen quickly retied his sash and refastened as many buttons as he could. He gave her a quick but longing kiss before disappearing. Cassandra strode to the door, face thunderous as she flung it open and the women tumbled to her feet. 

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” The Inquisitor laughed.

“I think it’s more about what hasn’t if you know what I mean?!” Sera laughed, sticking her tongue out, as they continued to giggle and roll together on the floor. Cassandra made a disgusted noise and retired to bed. Another night alone with ‘Swords and Shields’. Perfect, she thought, scowling at the abandoned book.

*****  
As Cullen crept along the balcony, he began to feel overawed by the scene detailed in Cassandra’s book. He wasn’t sure if he even had a ‘mighty sword’. Shit, he thought, would Cassandra be disappointed when they eventually…if they eventually…

It wasn’t just the anticipation that made his skin shiver as he made his way through the labyrinth of corridors, he could feel the headache that had plagued him all day throbbing insistently in his temples yet again. He clenched his fists against the pain as a sudden surge made him giddy and he stumbled against a pillar.

He closed his eyes resting his forehead against the cool marble for a moment, struggling to steady the flow of his breaths. 

“Commander?” A familiar voice asked behind him. Cullen tried to turn his head to see Dorian but the way his neck twisted made him groan at the rushing pain. He heard Dorian faintly tutting and snaking a hand around his waist.

“Oh dear, it wouldn’t do for the troops to see their Commander in this state would it?” Dorian scolded as he propped up the larger man. “Now, which way is your bedroom?”

Cullen raised a shaking hand toward a door on the far right of the hall before clutching it back to his side, embarrassed by the tremors. Dorian wilfully misinterpreted the gesture and reassured him “You needn’t be nervous Commander, you’re in no fit state to be of use to me.”

They began to make their way toward the door, Cullen now practically a dead weight against his friend’s side. Dorian huffed as he carried him “How much have you drunk tonight anyway?”  
“Don’t know.” Was all Cullen could hiss out through his teeth, his vision now clouding with black spots. 

Once Cullen fell on his bed, Dorian fetched a jug of water and held a glass to his lips forcing Cullen to gulp it down before he refilled the glass and repeated the action.

“Thank you Dorian.” He said croakily, the cooling liquid easing the searing heat of his veins for a moment. Dorian hummed as he looked the other man over. Cullen felt uneasy under the mage’s gaze and tried to make a show of being better: “Shouldn’t you be busy with admirers?” He quipped unconvincingly.

Dorian lowered his head to examine Cullen’s appearance, clearly concerned but willing to continue the pretence: “You’d have thought so, wouldn’t you. Damn Orlesians clearly have no taste.”  
“Clearly.” Cullen half-smiled, half-grimaced at him.

“Cullen,” Dorian began in a serious tone, Cullen looked up to return his gaze. His look pleaded with Dorian – don’t ask, please don’t ask. Dorian let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders “Drink plenty of water, do you hear?” Cullen nodded mutely.

Dorian opened his mouth to say more but Cullen was still looking at him beseechingly, heart pounding inside his jacket. Dorian straightened his pose once more and began to walk away, at the door he turned once more to look at Cullen’s hunched figure. 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Cullen.” He said before sweeping out of the room. Once he’d left Cullen collapsed on the bed. He rubbed his hands over his face before swallowing another glass of water, nothing would quench his thirst. He wished for a moment that he had been drinking but he’d purposefully declined every offer of wine that had been offered him. A hangover could he slept off; this agony could not.

What Cullen knew, and Dorian clearly knew too, was that this was just the start of a painful withdrawal from the lyrium leash. A withdrawal he’d hoped he could keep secret from the Inquisition but that he now knew could strike him down at any moment. The knot in his stomach tightened when he realised that the only person he trusted to support him and make his tough decisions for him was Cassandra and yet she was the only person in Thedas he feared disappointing. When she'd promised to watch over his lyrium withdrawal back in Kirkwall, he'd had no idea that she would become so precious to him. He'd asked her because she was a Seeker, because she understood his need to distance himself from the life he'd led before the Inquisition. They'd barely spoken of it since because his headaches, his sleeplessness, his loss of appetite were easily hidden but a Commander whose body failed would be no Commander at all. She'd notice before long. 

He knew when they’d taken their first optimistic steps toward a romantic relationship that their lives would make it difficult, that death could claim either of them at any moment, he’d always just assumed that it would be on the field of battle rather than degraded by this drug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Cullen and Cassandra will need to work through his lyrium addiction if their romance is to succeed.
> 
> This chapter included the following kinkmeme prompt:  
> "Cullen and Cassandra first respect each other as purpose-driven and faithful, then as friends, then as more. 
> 
> They both get their rocks off on reading "smutty literature" to each other in bed." (part 2, pg9)
> 
> All comments/kudos/feedback very much appreciated - thank you so much for the lovely comments so far, it's been keeping me motivated!


	8. Lyrium Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra had made Cullen a promise when she recruited him in Kirkwall. She had promised to help him overcome his Lyrium addiction and to dismiss him from his post as Commander as soon as she considered him to be a danger to the Inquisition.
> 
> When she'd made that promise he was a stranger, albeit one she had high hopes for. Now though she is in love with him and struggles to make the right decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no - here comes some angst!  
> Cullen battling his Lyrium withdrawal symptoms, there are some reinterpretations of in-game scenes so may be some spoilers if you haven't complete it yet.
> 
> No smut in this chapter if that's what you're here for.... The next chapter will be positively filthy however :)

“Don’t forget to eat.” Cassandra said as she entered without knocking. She was quick to spot the withdrawal symptoms, had been waiting for it since they first met and made their pact, yet she’d allowed herself to bury her fears - even believing that he’d passed the worst with little difficulty. Of course that had been a naïve hope. 

He smiled, recognising the concern they shared without voicing it. There was no need. When she placed the dinner on the desk in front of him, he grabbed her wrist:

“Stay. Stay for a little while, it’d be good to have some company.” He asked softly, his eyes dark with lack of sleep. She nodded, pleased that he wasn’t shutting her out of his pain. “I’m afraid I’ve only one chair, please…” He moved to stand, but she placed her hands on his shoulder forcing him back down.

“You can hardly sit on my lap, Cullen.” She said, taking her place on his instead, his arms gently coming to rest around her waist. His head rested into the crook of her neck and for a while she let them sit still as she cradled his head, stroking his hair. His breathing slowed, warming her pleasantly and from the loosening of his arms she could feel him beginning to be lulled into sleep. 

Just as Cassandra relaxed he suddenly jerked in the chair almost knocking her to the floor, his arms suddenly tightened around her preventing her fall but when she turned to look at his eyes, to thank him, she was stopped by the coldness she found there. 

“Cullen?” She asked tentatively, he blinked a couple of times his hands tensing around her before slackening once again and with a loud exhale he truly awoke.

“Sorry…did I…?” He began, swallowing at the feeling that something was wrong but more disturbed at his inability to understand what it was. Cassandra calmed the mood, stroking his hair once again before kissing him on the forehead.

“Don’t apologise, you drifted off – nothing more. Here, eat your dinner while it’s still warm.” Her tone was light, professional even, but she wouldn’t look at him. He frowned, obediently following her instructions. Once she was satisfied that he would eat a proper meal, she slipped off his lap.

She smiled at him as he slowly chewed on the bread. 

“I should leave you to it. No one wants to be watched while they eat.” It was a pathetic excuse and she knew it but he didn’t stop her. She opened the door, turning just before she left “Would you like me to come back later, I could help you up that ridiculous ladder?”

“No.” He replied, quickly adding “Thank you.” 

She nodded sharply again before leaving. Once she closed the door behind her, she leant against it before running her hands over her face forcing her tears to remain in place and not mar her cheek with selfish pity. 

Inside his lonely office, Cullen dropped the spoon back into the stew without eating another mouthful. He stared out of the window until restless sleep took him again.

*******  
Cassandra added her daily monitoring of Cullen’s progress to the rest of her routine to give it a semblance of normality. She had been watching him suffer slowly for weeks now with no real sign of improvement. 

She was staring into the fire, a book lay open in her hands, when Cullen entered. She immediately shifted but he stopped her:

“Don’t get up.” He said, with a smile. So she stayed, his thinner frame making its way slowly toward her. He took a seat opposite her and they sat quietly enjoying the familiar comfort for a while.

“You’ve been training today?” She asked hopefully.

“Yes.” He had at least intended to train, but the loud rattle of his shield shaking in his hand made it impossible for him to be seen with recruits.

“Good.” She reached her hand out and rested it lightly on his, he immediately caught it between his, a smile spread across her face when she felt their strong clasp, no shaking at all. 

“What are you reading?” He asked. She chuckled at being caught with Varric’s trashy book once again. He enjoyed the laughter, it was like an echo from another life.

“In my defence, I wasn’t even reading it. I was thinking…” Then her words stilled.

“I know.” He said anyway. “Maybe I shouldn’t have interrupted you, you do so much for me as it is.” His head hung down as he muttered his apology.

“Oh no. Don’t you dare start pitying yourself, Cullen Rutherford. You may feel sick and tired and anxious but considering what was predicted…I’d say your health is extraordinary.”

“Well, I’d be churlish to disagree when I’ve had such diligent care. You don’t have to check on me all the time you know. It’d be nice actually if…”

“If?…and what have I said about that word?” She scolded playfully.

“It would be lovely, in fact,” He emphasised his new choice of adjective making her laugh “if I didn’t feel that you were checking on me as some sort of chore. I’m fine, really I am, I would like to see you more…like this. Like we were before…” Where his words hesitated, Cassandra took over:

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Cassandra.” He looked at her, really looked at her for the first time in…he didn’t know how long. Maker, she was beautiful. 

“Would you consider staying here the night? Please, before you say no, listen to me. I worry about you tumbling down that ladder, or worse, off the battlements when you walk at night.” He shot her a look of concern “Don’t worry, everyone assumes it’s another sign of your over cautious nature, forever patrolling. Some of the newer recruits like it, I’ve heard them praise your willingness to take the hardest watch hours.”

“Well, that’s something.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You don’t have to sleep, we can talk or read, I just…I just don’t want you to be alone in that tower.”

Cullen kept his gaze lowered, brow furrowing. He’d not shared a room with anyone since Kinloch Hold. By the time he was at Kirkwall, his rank afforded him his own quarters. He’d lived with insomnia for most of his adult life now and wasn’t really ready to give Cassandra another cause for concern.

“I don’t know.” He eventually said, biting his lip. She nodded and bit her lip, the tears once again threatening to breach their bounds. “Oh Maker… Cassandra, I love you.” His voice broke and she went to him, cradling him. “I don’t want…” He couldn’t explain the fears that were crowding, swallowing him whole.

“Cullen, there is nothing. Nothing in the world you could do or say to change how I feel about you. I know that were I ill or suffering you would not leave my side if I begged you to. Please, think of my own peace of mind if nothing else. If we hadn’t begun…this. If you’d let me fulfil my pact made in friendship, you’d let me keep vigil.”

“You’re right,” He muttered against her.

The matter seemingly settled, Cullen let Cassandra take his hand and lead him up the stairs to her quarters, knowing before he’d even entered the space that he would not sleep.  
Of course the nightmares came as they always did, their forms designed to torment his weaknesses. When he awoke in an unfamiliar bed it didn’t worry him as much as it should have, instead he thought he’d succumbed to a new layer of his hallucination. His body gradually awakening to the sensations surrounding him, he felt constricted by a weight across his chest and immediately struggled free. 

His momentary joy at victory turned cold when he realised he was in the upper room of the forge, Cassandra awake, watching him keenly.

“Bad dreams?” She asked.

“They always are. Without Lyrium they’re worse.” He pulled his knees in under his arms and huddled, shivering, he had no strength to resist Cassandra holding him until his shivering dissipated.

“And yet you are awake and alive and fit to serve another day.” She said as she held him close. He smiled as he looked at her, what had he done to deserve her?

********  
Reading the same simple report for the fourth time, Cullen rubbed at his tired eyes. The words swam on the page and failed to conjure any meaning in his mind. The recruit waited patiently, simply interpreting Cullen’s body language for thoughtfulness. Eventually, Cullen gave up and simply handed it back saying:

“Ask Sister Nightingale to deal with this.”

“Ser.” The recruit saluted and left the office. Cullen stood, the immediate rush of blood making him rest his hands on the desk for a moment before he made his way outside. Fresh, mountain air the perfect antidote to a day full of conflicting papers.

As he rested on the battlements, admiring the view of the courtyard, another recruit appeared at his side:

“Lady Cassandra sent me to check on you, Ser.”

“Tell her I’m fine. And tell her when I told her to stop checking on me, I didn’t mean to send others.”

“You want me to say that?” The recruit asked, not sure which of her formidable bosses she was more scared of.

“Don’t bother, she wouldn’t listen.” Cullen answered softly as he caught sight of Cassandra in the yard watching him with her arms folded.

Their interrupted night at the Winter Palace hung over them like an incomplete dream, a tantalising glimpse of a future they could make together once the war was over; once Skyhold was secure; once Corypheus was defeated; once he was free from the Lyrium leash. 

He smiled down with a small nod before returning to his work.

Down in the yard, Cassandra frowned at the empty place where Cullen had stood. As soon as the recruit joined her, she asked:

“How did he seem? Was he…unsteady?”

“No. He was short-tempered.” The recruit said honestly. Cassandra let out a short wry laugh:

“That’s because I’m annoying him. Carry on.” And with that, she too returned to her work.

Only, her work included ensuring that the Commander was fit for purpose, she had to remind herself that their pact had been made at his recruitment, long before she had any personal interest in the man. Yet however she turned the matter over in her head she came back to the image of the twined bud; the two were inseparable.

As she sat on her bench contemplating this she ran his lucky coin through her fingers absent-mindedly. The blessed Andraste showing her face after each turn, a sign maybe of her continued love for her ardent follower. She huffed ironically at the idea of Cullen carrying a good luck token, he was perhaps one of the unluckiest individuals she’d ever encountered. For all his goodness and idealism he’d seemed fated to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, tormented by demons and ruled over by a mad woman. If that hadn’t driven him to madness or corruption then the small matter of quitting his Lyrium addiction should be well within his grasp. And so her thoughts flipped from despair to optimism as the coin continued turning.

She took a deep breath and rose, pocketing the charm securely. She’d made her decision: Cullen’s luck had turned when he’d met her, she would make that a reality and he would not fail.

************  
Dorian helped keep Cullen’s mind sharp – chess, mind puzzles, Tevinter riddles –all under the pretence of passing time and laced with silly flirtation, but Cullen knew. Cullen knew that Dorian was ensuring he stay relaxed and his mind occupied with matters that couldn’t easily be linked back to the tragedy of Kinloch Hold, the horror of Kirkwall. He could not thank the mage enough. If he’d ever doubted the Maker’s plan before the evidence of a divine comedy was here: a mage nursing a Templar through the pains of Lyrium withdrawal. This truly was a brave new world and Cullen was profoundly grateful.

These moments were the best moments, the moments where Cullen felt that he may just make it through his trial. But they were moments only, bright crystals buried in a mire of pain and confusion that some days left him struggling to breathe before he’d even finished buckling his armour.

*********  
His disintegration happened in stages and he did not gradually sink but instead was carried on an unstoppable tide, some days coasting with ease before being dragged by a deadly under current. The unpredictability was terrifying:

One day he could make pleasant small talk with his fellow advisors; the next he sweated as they spoke before rushing from the room and vomiting in a corner of the garden.

One day he was impressively leading combat training; the next he could barely lift his sword.

One day he was signing off requisition orders with decisive ease; the next he could not recognise the places detailed – had they really occupied the Hissing Wastes?

One day his dreams were full of Cassandra, wonderful, patient Cassandra; the next the violent nightmarish image of demons left him shaking in his bed, paralysed with fear.

Yet as each trauma subsided and no damage had been seemingly done, he continued in his role as Commander feeling more of a hollow impersonator and disgusted with himself.

Cullen realised one morning as he stared at one of his soldiers and failed to recall her name, or for that matter why he’d summoned her, that he may have arrived at the point he’d dreaded: the time when he could no longer fulfil his duty to the Inquisition. He was devastated by the realisation but felt it his duty to inform the Inquisitor at once.

The Inquisitor was not an easy character to read, at times she behaved as if they were all part of an elaborate game and her advisors battled to impress upon her the gravity of the situation. At other times her temper would flare suddenly, her title clearly having emboldened her. Despite Cullen’s reservations, she didn’t appear in the least bit phased by his news and seemed peculiarly ignorant as to the significance of his decision to quit Lyrium. He was at least thankful that the conversation was short and civil. He now had a far more difficult task ahead of him: He had to tell Cassandra.

*******  
Cassandra had been overwhelmingly relieved when Cullen had joined the group for dinner that evening. Although he ate little, he at least followed the flow of conversation and even laughed at a few of Varric’s stories. Cassandra smiled encouragingly whenever he caught her eye. 

As the party began to dissolve, Cullen caught her arm and asked: “May I talk with you, Seeker?”

“Of course, gladly.” She said warmly before they headed out to the forge.

Once inside, he pulled her close to him and she whimpered as she nestled against his shoulder. It had been far too long since they’d held each other with such strength.

“This feels good Cullen. You feel strong.”

“I feel strong when I’m with you.” He replied huskily, kissing the top of her head before gently unfurling her from his chest. She weakly protested before submitting to him. Once she returned his gaze, he continued “That’s what I’d like to talk about.”

Her heart gave an involuntary flutter, she smiled encouragingly.

“I feel strong now, it’s the strongest I’ve felt for weeks, months even.”

“That’s good…”

“No. That’s not…What I’m trying to say is…earlier, I couldn’t remember my own messenger’s name, or why I’d summoned her. And then suddenly I’m able to join you all for dinner it’s…it’s unnerving, Cassandra.”

“Of course it is but you must recognise the improvements you’ve been making.” Her voice was beginning to sound desperate.

“I wanted to ask you, or rather tell you that I think now is the time to find a new Commander.”

“What?!” Her tone immediately angry. Her eyes narrowed at him, enraged at his defeatism.

“Tonight I am well enough but I have no idea what tomorrow will be like, or the day after that, or the day after that…the unpredictable torment of it, it’s dangerous. What if I’m struck down at a crucial moment, on the field or with a prisoner or…? Surely it would be better to find a replacement now, while I could hand over responsibility properly, before I bring disgrace or worse to the Inquisition?”

“Cullen, of course we can’t predict this but that doesn’t mean we should plan for the worst eventuality. I am not a fool, I would not risk the Inquisition, trust me. You are the best person for the job,”

“Cassandra, I am asking you. No, I am telling you to trust me. I am no longer the person you recruited.” He couldn’t remember when his voice had raised to this pitch but now they were squaring up to one another, voices harsh he didn’t have the restraint to change it.

“You asked for my opinion, and I’ve given it. Why would you expect it to change?”

“I expect you to keep your word. It’s relentless…I can’t…”

“You give yourself too little credit.”

“If I’m unable to fulfil what vows I kept, then nothing good has come of this. Would you rather save face than…?” 

The loud clank of the door opening stopped them, the Inquisitor having come to investigate the shouting she’d heard on the way from the tavern. With her gawping at them there was no way they could continue their debate. 

Cullen sighed, shaking his head, muttering: “Forgive me.” As he passed Cassandra by. 

She would have ran after him had the Inquisitor not been staring at her for an explanation.

“And people say I’m stubborn. This is ridiculous. Cullen told you that he’s no longer taking Lyrium?” Cassandra said.

“Yes, can’t say I understand why he thinks now is the best time for going cold turkey.”

“This began in Kirkwall – he’s managed very well so far, better than I could have predicted and we must see that as a positive sign. Not that he’s willing to listen. Cullen has asked that I recommend a replacement for him. I refused. It’s not necessary. Besides, it would destroy him, he’s come so far.”

“Why didn’t he come to me?”

“We had an agreement long before you joined us. As a seeker, I could evaluate the dangers and he wouldn’t want to risk your disappointment.”

“Isn’t there anyway we could change his mind? I’m not happy about this, but a change of command now…it could damage morale.”

“If anyone could it’s you. Mages have made their suffering known; Templars never have. They are bound to the order, mind and soul, with someone always holding their Lyrium leash. Cullen has a chance to break that leash, to prove to himself – and anyone who would follow suit – that it’s possible. He can do this, I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Talk to him, decide if now is the time.”

The Inquisitor nodded and left. Cassandra tried to occupy her frantic mind with several meaningless tasks before resigning herself to the fact that she would not be able to focus on anything other than the crisis she felt the Inquisition would soon be facing. Perhaps he was right, was she really being too optimistic? Blinded by her love for him? Would she be far less tolerant had another member of the Inquisition shown the same frightening signs of instability?

She was out of the door before she was aware that she’d commanded her legs to do so. She didn’t know what the Inquisitor would be saying to him but she wanted to hear it for herself.

On the way up the stone steps she found the Inquisitor talking with a soldier. 

“Inquisitor have you spoken with Commander Cullen?” She maintained a neutral tone, aware of the soldier eagerly listening.

“Not exactly.” She replied, Cassandra tugged her out of earshot roughly by the elbow.

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’?” She hissed.

“I did go to speak to him but he made it clear he didn’t want to talk; he threw his Lyrium box at me!” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, there must be a mistake.” Cassandra’s breath was coming in short gasps: no, no, no…this couldn’t be the end.

“Go see for yourself.” The Inquisitor shrugged Cassandra’s rough hands off her before moving away.

Cassandra was taking the steps two at a time, until she clattered through Cullen’s door; his office was empty.

Cassandra dragged a hand across her forehead, images of his body broken on the rocks below filled her mind. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted him to sleep alone. She quickly looked around the room, the shattered vials of Lyrium exactly as the Inquisitor had said. At least he hadn’t relapsed, she thought.

A noise made her head turn to his bedroom: there was a soft cry, then another. She didn’t hesitate to climb the ladder, stopping only once she was at the top when her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and the sight that awaited her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know any feedback/comments/kudos - they're really gratefully appreciated especially during the sadder moments like this chapter!


	9. Desire Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra visits Cullen and witnesses the true nature of his nightmares for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really smutty and has a slightly different tone to the other chapters.
> 
> Partly inspired by kinkmeme prompt (see notes at the end)
> 
> Will be following this up tomorrow with some reconciliation after the angst.
> 
> The 'darker' tags on this work are mainly for this chapter.
> 
> Written mainly from Cassandra's POV as Cullen is in a Lyrium nightmare state - his POV will come in the next chapter...

Cullen lay naked on his bed, a sheet barely covering him as he twisted and jolted. As Cassandra watched helplessly, she suddenly noticed that the only thing he still wore was the white handkerchief she’d given him all those months ago. Her heart lurched at the sight of his strong body struggling against invisible torments. 

The hole in the roof allowed moonlight to beam in illuminating his pale flesh in a ghastly pall. Each muscle flexed, beneath his skin as it stretched over ribs, all too visible. Every scar danced a cruel mockery of the injuries he carried through his life, injuries that were now bombarding his mind.

But it was his face that made her gape open-mouthed, ashamed that she’d failed to appreciate the depth of his suffering before. His jaw was clamped tight, his teeth bared. His mouth occasionally opening to utter terrified cries as his hands groped blindly before him at imaginary assailants. His eyelids were screwed shut but there was rapid movement flickering beneath them. His hair was damp, the tendrils sticking to his forehead that glistened with sweat.

This tower was possibly the coldest place in the fortress and yet Cullen lay here bare and burning, skin beading with sweat. Cassandra longed to ease his torment and quickly fetched the water pitcher from the corner of the room. Retrieving a discarded sheet from the floor, she soaked it and wrung it out before cautiously approaching the bed. She sat on the edge as quietly as she could, fearing that suddenly waking him would be disastrous. 

With agonisingly slow movements she brought the damp cloth to his forehead. He immediately screamed, body almost doubling over before falling back to the bed and whimpering. Cassandra clutched the cloth to her chest, believing her own deafening heartbeats would wake him if the shock of the cold water hadn’t. 

When she felt calm again she chanced another gentle sweep of the cloth. This time he hissed through his gritted teeth but did not move, she kept the cloth still for a moment allowing his body to relax into the sensation before bringing a hand to the side of his face, her hand immediately recoiled – he was scalding hot.

She repeatedly wet the cloth and soothed his face becoming gradually used to the soft sounds he made before shakily holding one of his hands and sweeping the cool cloth over his arm. His fingers flexed in her palm before gripping hers tightly. The white delicate favour she’d tied loosely around his wrist had become a sodden rope from its constant wear, she touched it lightly considering how quickly the meaning of her gift had been tested.

“Cassandra.” He said, quite distinctly, she’d not mistaken it and yet as she looked at his sleeping face she felt sure she must have misheard, the only sound his shallow breaths. But, as she looked, his mouth seemed to twitch, the corners quirking into a smile as he let out a breathy moan. 

She felt her skin prickle with static as if the atmosphere had become charged by the proximity of their bodies and the tension of the uncharted courses between them. She struggled to swallow down her curiosity and continue with her ministrations as they seemed to be calming him. 

The cloth had just been tenderly settled on his chest when he gasped and bucked on the bed, his voice somewhere between a chuckle and a cry as he said her name again. This time she couldn’t help but respond:

“Cullen?” She asked tentatively as she stroked his cheek. A lightning quick movement caught her wrist as his eyes shot open immediately focusing on hers.

“Cassandra.” He growled again, pulling her down to him, his flesh burning against her as he devoured her mouth. He tasted bitter and sweet as he forced his tongue into her mouth, his hands holding her face firmly in place. She gasped with surprise for a moment as he tugged at her hair and kissed her with an abandon she’d not felt from him before. 

His mouth wide as if he wanted to swallow her, he dragged his tongue across her lips before biting them. Sharp, little nips that sent an instant jolt of arousal to her core.

She shook herself away from him for a moment concerned that he may be dreaming, but he simply looked at her with a filthy smirk. He bit his lip, running his hand over her shoulder and into her hair. He looked more than awake; he looked exhilarated as if he had more energy than he’d displayed in the last few months together. Perhaps this was another side effect of his withdrawal, she thought. She had to make sure though, after the poetry and gifts and hand holding she couldn’t quite believe Cullen was willingly inviting her to his bed at this moment.

“Cullen, is this what you want?” She asked, voice thick with desire, feeling her smalls already dampening at the idea of writhing against his naked, sweating body. Her body was desperate to know his but she knew, as she felt a tight ball of anxiety bury itself in her stomach that this had to stop, he was not well and she had a duty as his protector. But, Maker, how she wanted him...

He laughed before answering.

“I want you Cassandra. You know that, surely?” He sat up and folded his arms around her, his mouth nuzzling at her neck before impatiently opening her tunic to expose more of her flesh for his attentions. As the fastenings gave way to his rough hands, Cassandra dragged her nails over his back. The satisfied moan he gave encouraged her to repeat the action until angry, red stripes marked him all over he growled when she stopped: “More.” He demanded - she straddled his lap as she gratified his whim. 

Meanwhile his teeth bit at her neck until she was red and moaning, grinding in his lap. He decisively pushed her up off him forcing her to stand, following her until he stood unashamedly naked before her. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as she took in the sight of his magnificent warrior’s body there within her reach, all for her. His hard cock jutted out from his body as red and pulsing as the rest of his feverish skin. She reached a hand out to him but he slapped it away, before raising an eyebrow and nodding towards her trousers. She understood and quickly removed them.

He looked at her with a predator’s cool calculation before whispering: “That’s better”, grabbing her to him once again. Her legs instinctively twined about his waist and he steered them toward a low desk as she continued kissing and nibbling at his neck. He swept his arm across the surface, glass and papers scattering before placing her on the edge. His hands kneaded at her breasts in greedy handfuls, his head lowering to bite her hardened nipples, sucking them into his mouth and rolling them each over his tongue in turn until their sensitivity played on the border between pleasure and pain. Tonight she didn’t want to linger on the border; she wanted to feel pain. His pain. She wanted to feel the heightened heat and sharp agony of his skin.

“Harder.” She moaned. He hummed his approval with his mouth full of her flesh and dragged his knuckles over her thighs, letting them rub the muscles there for a moment before releasing her nipple with a loud pop.

He watched her with large, darkened pupils as his hands dragged over her thighs once more before sharply spreading her legs wide. 

She cried out as the cold air hit her wet centre. She trembled for a moment, beginning to close her legs again but he held her firm. He kissed her mouth before rubbing his stubbly cheek over hers and whispering to her “I want to see you.”

He fell to his knees and began rolling long strokes with his tongue up her thighs, giving little bites as he got closer to where she desperately wanted to feel him. The desperation grew too much and she unthinkingly dropped a hand between her legs, running her fingers through the damp curls and circling her clit.

“Is that what you do when you read your filthy books?” He asked, nuzzling at her inner thigh, so close to her fingers. 

“Yes.” She huskily moaned, eyes closing, head lolling.

“And when you think of me?” He took one of her fingers and sucked it.

“Oh, Maker yes.” Her last word became a cry as his scorching tongue penetrated her, drinking her deep. The lapping sound was wet and obscene in the silence of the room as he licked at her, tongue flicking over every fold and sweet nerve of her core. 

His fingers dug into her ass pulling her closer to his face until he was drowning in her, and she could feel every part of his hot face, his stubble and scar, his sharp features and soft lips ravishing her. She scratched at his scalp, restless with desire and tugged at his curls. The way his tongue sank deep into her when she did this encouraged her to do it again, this time bringing tears to his eyes. She paused for a moment, wondering whether she’d gone too far but he looked at her and flashed that wicked smirk. No, she hadn’t gone too far. Apparently they were only just starting.

The promise of further pleasures and pains combined with his face embedded between her thighs soon had her screaming his name as an orgasm flooded her body. As soon as the waves of her bliss began to subside, Cullen stood, rubbing his wet mouth with the back of his hand, the white handkerchief stained around his wrist.

“I like you saying my name.” He said, as he held her legs apart and dragged her closer to the edge of the desk. 

“I was screaming your name. And I’d like to do so again.” She said, brazenly taking on the persona of one of her favourite heroines. In the eerie half-moonlit room she could almost pretend this was a dream, a fantasy and let her inhibitions wait until morning.

Her confession had him so exquisitely hard that he had to breathe through his nose for a moment to prevent himself from spilling out all over her thighs again. When he’d sufficiently calmed himself, he wrapped one hand tightly around her neck as he slanted his mouth over hers and kissed longingly as he buried himself inside her. Since they'd begun their cautious romance Cassandra had played the scene of their first time together over in her mind imagining a range of settings, in the grove, perhaps by a fireside, the Winter Palace would have been perfect...not in her wildest fantasies had she pictured this savagery but now they were here it felt perfect, an inevitable culmination of the growing intensity between them. For every cross word, every tear, every interrupted tryst she could retaliate with her nails and teeth.

Although the movement was steady, he didn’t stop pushing until he was deeply embedded, his thickness stretching her wide around him, bringing her to that border again. For a moment he rested his forehead against hers and just enjoyed feeling her heat conquer his. She rolled slightly feel more keenly his cock digging against her walls and the gesture made him groan.

As carefully as he’d entered her, he withdrew again so that she could feel each vein dragging against her slicked nerves. As soon as she began to whine at the loss her voice was shattered by the full force of his body slamming back against hers with a loud slap. There was his name again ripped from her throat like magic. That was the encouragement he needed to continue with his punishing rhythm, each time the fullness was a blissful agony that made her clench her teeth and scratch his back in a demand for more. She loved the tenderness and adoration he’d shown before but this… this was exactly what she needed after the long anxious, sleepless nights and all the false starts and interruptions. This was the desire the read about and never dreamt could be hers. She bit his lip between her teeth until she could taste blood and ran her tongue soothingly over it. 

The desk shook beneath them, more items quickly rolling to the floor and the wood itself creaked under their efforts. As if she were made of feathers he spun her away from the furniture, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and moved them with ease to the nearest wall. He rested one hand by the side of her head, kissing her deeply and holding her safe before he began moving again. This time the angle was different as she slid higher up the wall, her taut stomach allowing her to grind against him as he fucked her hard. As liquid heat surged through her veins, that need for pain was met by the wall scratching her back raw with each thrust, the dual sensation had her throbbing and chasing a second orgasm in no time. 

This time, she held his face to hers kissing him between each pant before rubbing her sensitive skin over his sharp stubble for extra friction as his name shuddered past her lips. Cullen’s eyes watched her with fascination as she unravelled around him. He’d never seen her look more exquisite.

“That was beautiful.” His husky voice another rasping surface that licked at her need for more hurt. She hummed in satisfaction, feeling her legs becoming weaker, her hold slipping. Without missing his cue, Cullen peeled her from the wall and threw her back on the bed. 

She lay naked, shivering and red raw- her long limbs flailing for an anchor to pull her back to her senses and he watched. His eyes raked over the feast laid out before him with awe, so many possibilities and she was there willing him to take anything he wanted or needed from her. Their unspoken complicity had him rock hard and twitching but suddenly hesitant.

Cassandra propped herself up on her elbows for a moment to return his gaze. She reached a hand out to him, crooking a finger to encourage him over to her. 

“Cullen, is this what you want?” She asked for the second time that night. He clearly wanted her, that wasn’t what she was really asking. What she really wanted was to reassure him that it was what she wanted too. She wanted all of him, she wanted him to mark her, to leave fresh scars along with the old ones. 

“Yes.” He replied, seemingly understanding her invitation. He took his time walking to the bed not because of any more hesitation but because he was a hunter and he was calculating where and how to strike. He crawled up the bed, shoving her legs apart with his own and caged her body. He took time to run his hands in firm, long strokes over her collarbone and breasts. They travelled further, massaging her torso and stomach and then between her legs, cupping her sex confidently. 

She lay motionless letting him savour the way her body responded to each touch as his fingers varied from long strokes to hard tugs and scratches leaving red streaks and goose pimples in their wake. As soon as one of his hands scanned the length of hers she let her arm be taken in his until it was stretched above her head. Her muscles strained to find the furthest reach, painful but beautifully so.

“Yes.” He said again, kissing her mouth as a reward for her compliance. He repeated the gesture with his other hand and her second arm until she was squirming beneath him, the stretch bringing her breasts higher and more directly under his gaze. He pinched at her nipples, maintaining eye contact as he did so, testing her endurance until she moaned, then quickly dropped his head to lick and soothe at the tender flesh. 

She thrust her body up at his as he did so, ready for more. He understood and knelt between her legs, grasping at her ass to pull her onto his lap as he slid into her once again. This time it was he who cried out her name. Her hot, velvet walls enveloping him with ease as he pulled her onto him again and again. 

With her straddling Cullen’s lap their bodies clasped together she rode him with a ferocity she should have been ashamed of but with his eyes watching her with such wonder she could feel no shame. Sweat slicked between them, his furnace of a chest burning her torso with each thrust. Their movements too ragged for them to kiss fully, their mouths snatched at quick kisses, bites, licks between their mutual moans of each other’s names. The only words left to them; poetry long forgotten.

He raised her slightly in her strong arms before dropping her on her back, with his wide body following. He quickly manoeuvred their position until he had one of her legs over his shoulder and he was making deeper, grinding strokes with his impressive cock. His decisive confidence easily as arousing as any of his movements. The new position hit something that ached inside her, each time he stabbed at it she felt a little part of her break down and she dug her sharp nails into his shoulder blades so that he wouldn’t be able to move again.

His breath was coming out in shorter ragged gasps, the veins in his neck twitching invitingly as he visibly neared his climax. Her teeth sunk into that pulsing juncture as she ground against his pelvis with frenzy so that they could reach this new height together. He pounded into her one more time the force perfect, she clenched around him, the tightness towing each nerve in his body to unknot and explode into her.

Although she was still spasming in her comedown she could not stop watching her beautiful Commander as he shuddered against her, his hot seed flooding her as his mouth shaped voiceless words and his eyes screwed shut. Once he'd rocked to stillness his eyes flickered open once again and his eyes fixed her with a thoughtful stare as his breathing steadied. She held his face, trying to communicate without words the love, the passion she felt for him. To reassure him that his pain was her pain but that together they could turn it into something stronger and more wonderful than his lonely torment. 

He simply stared back...

Eventually he collapsed next to her and didn’t move again, sleep claiming him immediately. She was relieved to see that his fever had been quenched and that his face looked relaxed. 

Cassandra lay awake next to him for hours. As her skin cooled, the wanton pleasure of what they’d experienced began to ebb away and a different, icier feeling grew over her as she remembered the sad purpose of her visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any feedback/comments/kudos gratefully received.
> 
> Inspired by this kinkmeme prompt:  
> "Cullen is having a particularly rough time with his withdrawal, which results in Cassandra watching him while he's sleeping. He has a particularly bad hallucination/nightmare, which results in him attacking her and overpowering her because Cass is afraid to hurt him by using her Seeker abilities on him in his current state.
> 
> It ends up with them having spectacularly rough sex, lots of scratching and biting and being slammed into walls etc. Cass is horrified at first and trying to fight him off, but she actually secretly really likes rough sex (and very few men remotely have the stones to try it with her), and while she'd never really thought about Cullen as a potential lover before she's always thought he was pretty hot in an abstract kind of way.
> 
> In the morning, things get a bit awkward. Cullen at first things the whole thing was a dream until confronted with the inevitable evidence, such as the state of his room, Cass having a nice assortment of bruises and bites etc. He is overcome with shame and embarrassment. Cass is similarly mortified by how much she enjoyed it and feeling as though she somehow took advantage of his condition. So they agree to never speak of it again and go back to being friends.
> 
> Except, neither of them can stop thinking about it and wanting more, but being complete and utter dorks who find it very hard to talk about their feelings, neither of them wants to admit how much they enjoyed it and how much they really, really want it to happen again.”


	10. Perseverance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Cullen and Cassandra's night together.  
> The War Council meet to decide Cullen's future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was quite difficult to write as I want to be able to move forward with their romance (and more smut!) but thought it was important to deal with the issue of their wild night together as well as Cullen's fears about the effects of Lyrium withdrawal.
> 
>  
> 
> Please let me know what you think- feedback/comments/kudos all very gratefully received...I'm losing a little faith in this but have a couple more chapters rough drafted...

Waking gently without a jolt, without hitting out, without a cry was a novelty for Cullen. His eyes blinked open and he stretched his limbs working loose his muscles. As he rubbed his face and swallowed he immediately frowned as the metallic tang of blood flooded his mouth. He swiped at his lip, wincing when he found it split. He sighed, so he had been restless again.

A vague fragment of memory flitted across his waking mind, had he been bitten? He shook his head, he must have done it to himself. He shifted in the bed, bracing himself for another day and grimaced at another familiar feeling: the cold, damp stickiness, evidence of another night in the clutches of desire demons. One demon in particular, one that had increasingly fuelled his nights – the one that took Cassandra’s form.

Cassandra.

Had she been here? Another fragment. The memories shifting like a kaleidoscope but never settling into a complete image before being tilted loose again. He felt well rested but the scratches and bruises were evidence of restlessness and pain.

Leaving the bed with a sad sigh for the inevitable decision that would be made today, he hurried to retrieve his discarded clothes. He stopped dead in his place as he witnessed the scale of the destruction. Bottles lay smashed and papers scattered - if Cassandra needed any further convincing of his unsuitability for his role, here was the evidence. He placed a hand on the desk to begin reordering his things when it shifted and groaned beneath his hand, the usually sturdy legs wobbling. 

At the sight and sound something twisted in his gut. He knew what he’d dreamt, he could recall the sensation of Cassandra’s beautiful legs opening before him, pulling him close as she perched on this desk. Maker, he gulped, so real. So real, so supple beneath his touch. The torment so exquisite he shuddered at the memory.

He grimaced as a sickening wave of disgust crashed over him for his own lack of restraint. Even in his fantasies he felt sordid for having used Cassandra’s quiet courtesy and support, twisting it into something base. Their relationship should not have been undermined by his lewd imaginings.

As he finished dressing, he heard his office door open without a knock. He called out:

“Hello?”

“Cullen,” Cassandra’s unmistakable voice replied, hitting him straight in the chest. He’d have hidden from her for a while longer if he’d had the chance, but she continued “Are you intending to do any work today?”

Moments later he appeared in the office before her to find a plate of food, a neatly stacked pile of reports and Cassandra standing nervously by his desk. Her fingers fidgeted, her eyes downcast before she took a deep breath and looked at him. It took considerable willpower to hold her gaze but she seemed to appreciate the effort, smiling a relieved smile which he instinctively mirrored.

“Here. You are to eat, you are to read these papers and then…then, I think we should discuss your on-going role within the Inquisition.” 

Cullen nodded and took his familiar seat, Cassandra still hovering, watching over him. He began to eat, slowly at first simply to comply but then as the flavours filled his mouth he realised with a moan that he was ravenous. She let out a little laugh of contentment as he devoured the bread and porridge, before relaxing against the edge of the desk and taking a drink for herself.

“This is good.” She said quietly.

“It is, thank you.” He replied warmly, taking her hand in his.

As she turned to lift her cup to her mouth again, her collar slipped revealing a large purple bruise on her neck. It stopped Cullen mid chew as he struggled to align what he saw with what he feared he remembered. Then she moved again and the bruise disappeared. 

“Did you sleep well?” She asked brightly.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good. You seemed so peaceful when I left I didn’t want to wake you.” She placed a hand on his forehead “And you’re not burning anymore.”

Her words made his back stiffen and he clutched her hand from his forehead.

“Anymore? Wait. Cassandra, did you check on me earlier this morning?” He chose his words with caution.

“I came to you last night, Cullen, after your run in with the Inquisitor. You were feverish, but…do you not remember?” 

Now her skin began to prickle at the realisation that her experience may not tally with his.

“I remember.” He said, eyes downcast. She let out a breath, relieved but anxious. Of course they would need to discuss what had happened, she had hoped they would have at least finished breakfast first though. Cullen did not look at her as he continued quietly: “But then, did you…stay?”

“I stayed all night.” She said, feeling the ground give way beneath her.

“Ah. Was I dreaming or..?” The colour rapidly spreading over his cheeks made it clear that he very vividly recalled their night together.

“No. That wasn’t a dream.” She said sadly, burying her face in her hands “Oh, Cullen. I thought you were awake, I thought it was what you wanted. What have I done?”

He quickly left his chair and came to stand beside her, awkwardly placing an arm around her shoulder before moving it back to his side. The space between them had never seemed so vast.

“I do remember, I remember everything. I just hadn’t thought that it was real. I often, um, think of you and sometimes the visions are so clear I cannot tell if…please, don’t…I hope I didn’t hurt you?”

“I wanted you to hurt me, I wanted to feel your suffering. Maker forgive me Cullen but I enjoyed it, I wanted it all. But now I see…”

“Stop. Stop.” He gently held her hands away from her face. “I’m ashamed of how I behaved, it’s not how I would have wished our first time together to be but now it’s happened I don’t regret it.” It took him voicing the words for him to realise their truth and for the tight knots in his chest to unravel.

“Me neither.” She sagged against him, relieved.

“Truly? And I didn’t hurt you?”

“The bruises will fade and for now I…I like them.” Cassandra blushingly replied.

“And you’re not…I…for a woman, I have heard, the first time….” He rubbed his face, unable to voice his question.

“Cullen, what exactly are you asking me? Did you think I was a virgin before last night?”

“Aren’t you, I mean, weren’t you?” 

“No.”

“Oh.” He was surprised but then nothing was playing out as he’d expected so…

“I hope you’re not disappointed? Despite your chantry upbringing you’ve found time to educate yourself – why should it be any different for me?”

“It isn’t, I just…I was mistaken. And I’d hardly call myself ‘educated’ as you say. I mean I know what’s supposed to happen but…”

“Last night was your first time?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

For a long moment they stood reliving the experience, all their experiences, for the clues- the moments that had led them to this misunderstanding. Eventually, with shy glances at each other they seemed to arrive at the conclusion that it didn’t matter, didn’t change how they felt, and didn’t change their desire or, sadly, the fact that there were far more grave matters to discuss.  
****

“I agree with you, Seeker, a change of Command could be catastrophic.” Josephine said.

Leliana was still to make her opinion known as they gathered around the War Table. Cassandra had convinced Cullen that they should address the council together with their concerns – his health no longer a purely private matter.

“How long have you been without Lyrium?” The Inquisitor asked.

“For over a year now.” Cullen answered, unsure whether it was their questioning or his withdrawal that was making him sweat.

“And yet you still suffer?” She asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Forgive me Inquisitor, but I think it’s remarkable.” Leliana finally added. “Not only have you managed to fulfil your responsibilities as Commander, but you were also able to do so without arousing suspicion. I should be angry at you for concealing this from us but, truly, I am impressed. I would think that if you were going to die or go insane you would have done so already. May we draw a line under this…crisis of faith… and assume that you can continue?”

Cullen clenched his fists, worried by the casual tone of his colleagues.

“Cullen, you may not be able to see it but we are all in agreement. You are to remain in post, Cassandra will maintain her watch over you – she seems to have done a good job so far – I trust her to alert us if her judgement alters but, for now, please can we continue as we were?” The Inquisitor asked.

“Of course, Inquisitor. Thank you. Thank you, all of you, for your understanding. It has been a privilege to serve alongside you and, Maker willing, I will continue to do so to the upmost of my ability.” 

“Good. Now, that’s settled there are alarming reports of Venatori in…” As the council returned to their daily work, Cassandra squeezed Cullen’s arm before slipping away. 

*****

Cullen’s head was clear and sharp for the first time in months. Whether it was the relief of his colleagues quietly accepting his decision, or the night he’d spent with Cassandra he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t dare to believe he was truly free of his addiction but it was a vast improvement at least.

As his eyes surveyed the scene ahead of him he felt fortunate to have found himself here, in Skyhold the mountains protectively cradling their new home. The valley filled with refugees who shared their vision for a new dawn. It was time to look forward. He smiled when he realised Cassandra was by his side.

They did not touch, not out here in broad daylight, but the warmth flowed between them nevertheless. He could hear her breathing slowly synchronising with his. Eventually he spoke:

“I’d never told anyone what truly happened at Ferelden’s Circle. I was…not myself after that. I was angry. For years, that anger blinded me. I’m not proud of the man that made me.”

“You should be proud of the man you are, Cullen. I am.”

“Now I can put some distance between myself and everything that happened. It’s a start.”

“I’m glad.” 

“Cassandra, I don’t think I could ever tell you just how grateful I am to you for having faith in me. I know that this would have been impossible without you.”

“Well, I can be quite determined when I want to be.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Just one of the many, many qualities I admire about you.”

"Really Commander? Perhaps you should tell me more about my admirable qualities - I've forgotten what it feels like to be courted." She pouted, her voice adopting atone he'd not heard for many weeks.

"Yes, well, I should probably do something about that."

He offered her his arm, fixing her with a clear eyed stare full of promise. She took his arm gratefully and allowed herself to be walked inside as if she were a lady being escorted by her knight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, well now the angst is dealt with the next chapters will chart the rest of this pair's tempestuous relationship - and they're still to play Wicked Grace :)


	11. Seekers of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Cassandra are interrupted by the Inquisitor who brings grave news about the Seekers.  
> Cassandra deals with Lord Seeker Lucius's betrayal.
> 
> Some minor spoilers about Cassandra's personal quest in game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has been so long - had major writer's block with these two so I don't think this is a great chapter but wanted to get back into it somehow...
> 
> Anyway, please let me know what you think, comments/kudos/feedback very, very gratefully received :)

Bolting the door behind him, Cullen quickly felt anxious about the possible implications of his actions, his hand instinctively sliding up to rub the back of his neck. Cassandra, who’d entered ahead of him, still had her back turned to him as if bracing herself for something: Something fragile and tender that she craved deep within -his touch, still so new and untested yet forever imprinted on her skin.

As if understanding the desire that shook her shoulders, Cullen let his hand fall back to his side as he approached her. She let her head fall back against him as she felt his hands snake around her waist, gentle but firm enough to reassure her that all his trembling had subsided. The strength she admired so much was evident in his fingers as they splayed around her middle, pulling her close.

For long, precious moments her simply held her, her own arms wrapping over his like the twinned bud, she smiled at the image resurfacing, happily blooming again between them.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered, breath hot against her neck. In response, she hummed a little and rolled her neck to encourage him to nuzzle further into her. Suddenly every space between, however small seemed infinitely wide leading Cassandra to push back against him. The action elicited a breathy moan from Cullen who returned the pressure by pulling her body flush against his, his hands roving up over the constricting leather of her coat. 

“I did say I’d forgotten how it felt to be courted.” She teased. “I didn’t think you’d remind me so…fervently.”

“Should I stop?”

“Don’t you dare.” She responded with a convincingly threatening tone. Turning her head as her hand traced up over his jaw pulling his lips to hers. 

Their kiss deepened, a reminder of all the time they’d spent apart over the past weeks and months. As their tongues explored, their hands held tight. Cassandra could feel a hesitancy in his movements in stark contrast to their feverish night spent together. The recollection immediately making her blush and falter.

Cullen drew his face away from hers, misreading the change of rhythm for doubt. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she surveyed the concern on his brow. Her fingers tracing the lines as they appeared.

He sighed as he held one of her hands in both of his, biting his lip, unsure where to begin:

“This war won’t last forever, when it started I hadn’t considered much past our survival. But things are different now.” How to convey the new worries now his life had been transformed by her devoted care? Lyrium had not claimed his senses or his life, unless he fell in battle their future suddenly seemed within reach.

“What do you mean?” She frowned at him, surely he wasn’t doubting her commitment to him, to their common cause?

“When this is over, I won’t want to move on. Not from you. But I…I don’t know what you, that is, if you..?” His face was lowered, unable to meet her burning eyes as he cautiously proclaimed his plans. Relieved that his caution was completely unnecessary, Cassandra let out a throaty laugh as she tilted his face up to meet her eyes again. 

“Cullen, do you need to ask?” She admonished, shaking her head at the vulnerability of a man she knew to be a fearless warrior when necessary; a man who battled nightly against demons; a man who’d faced down his own superiors in order to save a city and here he was blushing before her.   
“I suppose not.” He breathed out as their bodies backed together toward his large desk, their hands once again roving over each other. As she lifted herself up onto the desk a bottle rolled and shattered on the floor. 

The splintering glass shattered the last cord of restraint in Cullen and he pounced on Cassandra with all the over eager enthusiasm of a much younger man. His tender, firm touches reminded Cassandra a little of their night together in the room so close to where they now but his soft moans and the delicate swipes of his tongue were entirely new. Apparently Cullen could still surprise her after all the strange and wondrous things they’d experienced together. 

A knock at the door interrupted them for a moment. Cullen smiled at Cassandra, running a hand down her cheek to smooth the cross expression that had appeared there. He kissed her lightly, hoping the visitor would desist. 

A second, more insistent knock brought a growl to Cullen’s throat, this time making Cassandra soothe his objection with a shy smile.

They began manoeuvring away from the desk, straightening their armour but not quite able to bring themselves to part until…

A third knock, this time a series of loud booms from knuckles persistently hammering at the wood.

Cullen tore the door open, roaring “What?!” at the unwanted messenger, but then gasped when he recognised the Inquisitor standing with her hand raised, her own glare matching his. Her eyes flitted into the room and narrowed as they found Cassandra in the gloom.

“Apologies Inquisitor…” Cullen began moving away from the doorframe to allow the Inquisitor to enter. She declined the obvious invitation by crossing her arms and adopting a scowl.

“Sorry to keep me waiting, or sorry for neglecting your duties? Again.”

“Inquisitor, I demanded that Cullen spend some time updating me about his progress. We judged that privacy would be wise.” Cassandra intervened. Her face an implacable mask.

The Inquisitor simply snorted.

“Did you need something?” Cullen asked, hand smoothing his curls that were beginning to spring rebelliously due to Cassandra’s earlier caresses and the fluster of the awkward conversation.

“Not from you. I need to speak to Cassandra. That is, if she can spare me the time. It’s about the matter you asked me to look into Seeker Pentaghast.” The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow to communicate the matter.

“Of course.” Cassandra replied, the colour draining from her face. The two women left without further quarrel, leaving Cullen alone in his office trying to keep the icy fear in his veins form overwhelming him.

A number of hours later and the Inquisitor was riding out of Skyhold with her party which, of course, included Cassandra. As was customary, Cullen appeared in the yard to see them safely dispatched. Cassandra’s distracted looks did nothing to ease his concerns.

While Sera and the Inquisitor were arguing over their mounts, Cullen took the opportunity to approach Cassandra directly. Her mouth was clamped tight with worry, but she saw the questioning in his eyes and simply said: “Caer Oswin. Lord Seeker Lucius.” 

“Maker watch over you.” Cullen sighed. He would have to be strong for Cassandra as she had been for him during his crisis. 

Soon the four allies were disappearing over the bridge and he knew his heart would not beat regularly again until they returned.  
*******  
Caer Oswin was every bit as harrowing as Cassandra had expected. She battled to keep her faith strong even in the face of damning evidence such as the letters which detailed the deals struck between Corypheus and the Promisers.

As she rode back to Skyhold the image of her plunging her sword into Daniel’s side floated in her vision repeatedly. His eyes on hers, her old friend and apprentice utterly destroyed. 

“Daniel, Daniel, can you hear me?”

She wished he’d been dead already when they found him, his veins painted like ink across his trusting, sweet face. Cassandra gulped, no, she would not cry for him. She had to prevent the same cruelty from ever happening again.

As she was lost in thought, she could hear some of her companions chatting and laughing a way behind her. For them, this had been like any other mission and they were jubilant in their victory. Dorian, however, seemed sympathetic and increased his pace to ride alongside her.

“Devastating isn’t it?” He said as a statement rather than a question “To realise that your whole life, your purpose, your faith is based on the weak whims of others.” 

Cassandra merely groaned in assent, her vision now misting.

“Most people are luckier than us, they never know that their lives are based on deceit and corruption. They never know the evil bargains and sacrifices that are made to keep order.”

“True.”

“I can offer no comfort I’m afraid, but from experience I can tell you that the truth, however painful, can be liberating.”

“Thank you Dorian.”

Cassandra’s hand instinctively ran over the embossed spine of the book Lord Seeker Lucius had handed her. The book that contained the entire basis of the Seekers’ existence. It was a heavy burden to carry. 

From her melancholy she was roused by a squeal of laughter from behind. She looked at Dorian to see him rolling his eyes.

“Apologies my lady, I’ll have to return to babysitting.” He grinned warmly at her before tugging his horse’s reins and leaving her side once again.

*****  
Cassandra had ignored the welcome party when she’d returned and dragged her heavy limbs to her own quarters instead.  
As soon as she was upstairs in the forge she ripped off her gloves and pulled the book out of her satchel. There she sat with the tome open in front of her until a visitor found her many hours later.

********  
Seeing the party return, Cullen had rushed from his office and stood at the portcullis as the group traipsed by. From their expressions and lack of discernible injuries the mission had clearly been successful but when he looked to Cassandra to share his relief she blinked away and ignored his calls for her to stop.

He stood watching her stalk away from the yard feeling useless and anxious; she’d never shut him out before. As the Inquisitor passed, he caught her arm and was a little gladdened to see that she didn’t recoil (it was obvious that the woman had lost all respect for him).

“Inquisitor, I’m glad to see you all returned in one piece. Can I infer that the mission was a success?”

“Partly. Turns out the Seekers were a bunch of lying arseholes, that Lord Seeker had sacrificed the entire order. But, he’s not around to aid Corypheus any longer so I suppose you could call it a success.”

“The entire order?” Cullen frowned at the implications both personally and for the Inquisition. “And how is Lady Cassandra?”

“How do you think she is? Devastated obviously, even had to cut down her old apprentice to stop him hatching demons.” The Inquisitor shuddered childishly “It was disgusting.” She added with a screwed up grimace.

“You coming to drink your troubles away?” Sera asked as she appeared at the Inquisitor’s side.

“Just try and stop me.” The two left together.

Cullen gazed in the direction of the forge eager to comfort Cassandra but as he began to race in that direction, a firm hand held his shoulder.

“Commander.” Dorian began “A word of advice.”

“Dorian, you were there. Was it as terrible as the Inquisitor described?”

“Worse, sadly. I understand your impulse to run to your fair maiden’s side but I would recommend giving her some time. She has a lot to process, not least her own part in the future rebuilding of the Seekers, if that is what she ultimately decides to do. Let her have this time to put her thoughts in order before you help her to grieve.”

Cullen reluctantly followed Dorian’s advice, and was grateful for his friend’s company as he watched each slow, agonising hour slip by.

******  
A quiet but heavy stillness hung over the little ramshackle room at the top of the forge. Cassandra sat staring at the closed text as if there were further meanings she could glean by patient contemplation, as if there was one last great secret that she alone could divine. She knew the truth sat like a stone in her stomach and she didn’t dare digest it.

Opposite her, a mirror image of tranquillity, Cullen waited. His hands stretched across the table lightly touching hers, a gentle supportive pressure just enough to let her know he would wait for however long she needed him to.

Eventually a witch-like cry of a bird outside the window roused Cassandra and with a deep breath she began:

“This tome has passed from Lord Seeker to Lord Seeker, since the time of the old Inquisition. And now it falls to me.”

“Thank the Maker there is someone to continue the legacy of the Seekers, Cassandra, it is a heavy task to be sure but there cannot be anybody better suited to it.” The words came easily; they were the truth.

Cassandra took no comfort in them however and Cullen was surprised as her narrative continued.

“The rite of tranquillity. I know you have seen the effects first hand Cullen, I know you have seen families torn apart by its impact. And yet it was only ever supposedly a last resort. You know as well as I that that hasn’t always been the case.”

Cullen nodded, swallowing as he did so. He certainly had some blame on his shoulders, blame he’d happily forget if he could. He muttered “I’m ashamed to say that I do know that the rite has been abused in the past, it would be naïve of me to claim that all such cases had been simply misguided.”

“What finally began the mage rebellion was the discovery that the rite could be reversed.”

“What?”

“The Lord Seeker at the time covered it up – harshly. There were many deaths. It was dangerous knowledge. The shock of the discovery in addition to what happened in Kirkwall.”

“I was there Cassandra, if the rite could have been reversed then why…?” He exhaled heavily and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. She remained calm, he had to know it all. If he was to understand, to support her, to forgive her, he had to know everything.

“Cullen, it appears we’ve always known how to reverse the rite. From the beginning.”

“Who’s ‘we’? All the Seekers or just those at the top?” He sneered at the implication of further hypocrisy in power. Another youthful ideal trodden under foot.

“We created the rite of tranquillity. To become a seeker, I spent months in a vigil, emptying myself of all emotion. I was made tranquil and didn’t even know, then the vigil summoned a spirit of faith to touch my mind. That broke tranquillity and gave me my abilities. The Seekers did not share that secret. Not with me, not with the chantry, not even with…”

Her voice began to tremble as she realised the depths of the deception, it felt as if the morals and codes that governed her life were built on the shifting sands of the hissing wastes. Her Maker given duty a desert mirage. He clutched her hand, supporting but urging. She continued:

“There’s more, Lucius was not wrong about the order. I thought to rebuild the seekers once victory was ours. Now I’m not certain it deserves to be rebuilt.”

“The order was created to look into abuses of power, it was supposed to be above such deceit. How could it be trusted to judge others if its whole constitution is founded on a lie?” Cullen’s voice was rough with emotion but his eyes shone bright with the fervour of honesty. 

“At some point, power becomes its own master. We cast aside ideals in favour of expedience and tell ourselves in was all necessary. For the people.”  
Cullen simply tutted and shook his head. He would not believe that all power was so tainted, there must be some honest goodness left in the world. And yet, as they sat here in their sanctuary of idealism their Inquisitor sat in the tavern, her loud frolicking audible through several walls. Somewhere, not so far away, a table smashed and every spectator cheered. Cassandra read Cullen’s depressed doubts as her own.

“Will that happen to the Inquisition?” She said aloud, her fingers absent-mindedly tracing over the raised symbol of the tome’s cover.

“I can’t predict the future Cassandra…” Cullen muttered, not wishing to voice their gloomy thoughts.

“But we know the past. Those who do not heed history are doomed to repeat it.” She said, her eyes brightening once again with even this small glimmer of hope.

“You would rebuild the Seekers…” He smiled at her encouragingly.

“No more secrets – this time, if the Seekers are to be rebuilt then we must truly be conducting the Maker’s work.”

“It is all any of us can do. Each in our own way. Rebuild, make them better than they were.

“Thank you, I could not have done this on my own.”

Cullen smirked at Cassandra’s modesty. She was a force of nature “Of course you could have. But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”

“Me too.” She smiled a sad, weary smile at him and then quickly looked away to draw a breath and clear her mind of the tragedy passed. She must look to the future.

Through the window she could see the braziers had been lit and most of Skyhold’s inhabitants had retired for the evening. Cullen rose from his seat and moved around the table to kneel before Cassandra.

“Cassandra, whatever path you choose now you have my loyalty and my sword. They are yours, always.” She beamed at his earnest expression as if he even needed to emphasise his devotion. It was as constant as the stars. Instead, Cassandra ran her hand over his stubbly jaw and lowered her mouth to kiss him once again. This time she was determined that they wouldn’t be interrupted. 

Without breaking eye contact, Cassandra took each of his hands in hers and removed his armoured gloves placing them carefully on the table. She then stood before him, lifting him to stand also. He leant in to kiss her but she backed away playfully, instead leading him by the hand to the small wooden bed in the corner of her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, now for a much smuttier chapter...


	12. The Forge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the revelations about the Seekers, Cassandra and Cullen take comfort in each other's arms.  
> This is just smut.  
> No, really.   
> Only a smidge of plot right at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if you enjoy this (or don't - feedback is good!)  
> All comments/kudos very, very gratefully received!

Slower and with more hesitancy than ever before, Cullen and Cassandra undressed each other between warm kisses and appreciative murmurs, their voices low as if they were sharing a delicious secret. Soon they were moving together in one wave, legs tangled and hands clasped.

He pressed firm kisses all along her jaw, his hand guiding her willing head beneath his lips and then began tracing his tongue along the veins of her neck until, with a groan, his mouth was on her ear and she gasped at the ticklish pleasure. As his tongue continued to savour her, the day’s stresses ebbed away until there was nothing but the pressure between their two bodies and the slick of sweat forming over their skin in the heat of the forge.

Biting her lip with impatience as she rocked beneath his hard body, Cassandra ran her hands over the taut muscles of Cullen’s back before scratching lightly over his shoulders pulling him closer still. She moaned as her fingertips detected the tiny goosepimples appearing beneath her touch and felt his breath quicken. She filed away the idea for another night – his response to her scratching during their delirious night in his tower was clearly not an anomaly. The thought thrilled her but she could wait for another time, another time when she didn’t want to terrify him altogether. Despite his confident kisses and strokes she began to worry that he’d lost some confidence after their mutual confessions, his hands were still in her hair, clutching her precious face to his.

Cautiously, Cassandra took one of her lover’s (what a delight it was to acknowledge this role) hand and kissed the rough pads of his fingers, casting a sultry look as she trailed the hand lower and guided him to cup her breasts. His hesitation vanished as he fell to worshipping her dark nipples in turn experimenting with light tugs and bites, swirling his talented tongue over the hardened flesh while letting out little whimpers of desire. Cassandra flexed like a cat as she let him adore her, he could take all the time in the world – nothing was going to drag him back to his tower tonight.

Without needing any further prompts, Cullen eventually snaked further down her body and sunk greedily between her legs. He almost roared at finding her so wet and willing, his surprise made his head snap up to look at her with hunger in his stare. Cassandra blushed and covered her face with one hand while the other ruffled his curls affectionately as his tongue took the first of many long, languorous strokes across the length of her sex.

Maker, he was unnaturally talented at pleasuring her with his tongue, reacting to every small movement and moan from Cassandra he learnt her body beautifully. A soldier’s skill lay in understanding their opponent, foreseeing each move, reacting quickly and Cullen was an exemplary soldier. Cassandra had never known a man take such obvious delight in pleasing her as Cullen did. She felt a warm flush surge through her as she realised she’d never want another man’s touch after this; Cullen was hers now as she was his. This thought along with the searing drag of his tongue had her muscles contracting and building toward an inevitable climax but she quickly pulled at his hair, his shoulders anything she could to stop him bringing her to that point with his tongue alone. She wanted all of him.

Reluctantly, he lifted his face and smiled an alarmingly innocent smile at her before dropping reverent kisses along the flesh of her inner thighs, her stomach across her breasts once again until they were face to face once more.

“I love you Cassandra.” He said simply, as if it was a duty and an honour.

“I love you too.” She replied, for the first time. Her heart unlocked its fears not because of the way their bodies felt designed to work together; not because she respected and admired his vision; not because he was a kind man, loved by his soldiers; not because he’d supported her and listened when she’d needed him to, but because…because she simply did in a way that listing his qualities didn’t quantify.

The vulnerability of the moment filled the hot room with static as they trembled at that exquisite moment just before coupling. When he’d frantically claimed her that night, they’d not had time to appreciate this moment. Now they savoured it as they carefully, bashfully rearranged their hips and he held himself in hand to guide himself into her. It was like the first time for both of them; the previous frenzied night merely a fever dream. Cassandra wound her legs around his to feel all of his warrior’s strength as he slowly moved inside her. Above her, Cullen seemed to hold his breath as he made his first, agonisingly slow thrust inside her his hard cock stretching and filling until he had sunk deep and rocked against her. The motion made them both gasp and cast shy looks at each other as if to confirm that the feeling of wholeness was as wondrous for the other as it was for them. It was gratifying for them each to feel they were not alone in the unravelling of this miracle.

The slowness could not last however and soon, in mutual agreement, they were moving more rapidly. Cassandra’s back arching from the bed to meet each thrust Cullen drove into her. They were making love as if that enigmatic emotion could be forged between the heat of two bodies. A miracle of alchemy that it did indeed work and they could feel the close ties of love and devotion knotting around them as their bodies rolled together. He ran his hand along her thigh, squeezing at the tight muscles and seemingly wanting permission to draw her legs up higher.

“You don’t have to ask, Cullen.”

He groaned his appreciation as he lifted her legs up around his waist and sunk down deeper still with his next thrust. The depth was dizzying. He couldn’t imagine a pleasure as intense and bit his lip to reign in the urge to cry out.

“You weren’t so shy last time.” She teased at his reticence, eager to hear him.

“Don’t remind me.” Cullen blushed at the memory of his having thrown Cassandra around his room like a wild animal. Although her comment seemed to have loosened his tongue enough that each time he drove into her the impact was accompanied with a throaty moan.

“I’m not complaining. I…I may like it if you’d do that again.” She whispered into his ear, punctuated by a bite. She pulled on his hips to guide the pressure and the speed. Her purring voice, the way her flesh enveloped him, her mouth against his neck…it was all coiling into a tight ball of heat that radiated from his abdomen. 

“Oh Maker, I’m going to…is it alright if..?” He looked at her anxiously, his manners impeccable even during this blissful moment. She clamped her legs around him tightly and refused any further concerns.

“I want to feel you, all of you…” She gasped out, deliberately squeezing her inner muscles to make him cry out her name and buck wildly inside her, the warmth of his seed flooding her and making her feel delirious with pleasure.

His body spasmed and relaxed as he held her caged in his arms, he breathed heavily with contentment before lightly pressing his forehead into hers and letting his eyelids flutter open once again.

When his eyes opened he found his vision filled with the dark pools of her own staring back at him. The closeness making their senses blur, he smiled kissing her cheeks and mouth with a quick dart of his tongue before propping himself up higher on his arms to consider her beautiful face more clearly.

Each time they lay together a new height of sensation was reached and Cullen was genuinely bewildered as to how they could keep climbing. The thought stunned him. He ran a hand tenderly over Cassandra’s cheek as he asked:

“Cassandra that was…is it always like this?”

“I should be offended you’re even asking that, but, no. No, it is not always like this.” To prove her sincerity she drew him back to her for more of the kisses she’d never tire of and giggled a little when she felt his softening cock make an excited pulse inside her. He laughed in return, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as he gently pulled out and rolled to her side. They were cramped in her small wooden bed and it was unbearably hot but still they lay tangled and glistening with ridiculous smiles on their faces. Cullen smirked at the starless ceiling above him.  
Of course, being Cullen, he couldn’t relax too long without doubts beginning to crawl to the edges of his mind. Cassandra could see his mind working, the lines on his forehead deepened a little as he spoke:

“I’m sorry if I…I’d like to take my time but, ah, you’re too intoxicating.” As he spoke he took Cassandra’s hand in one of his and ran the fingers of his other hand up and down her arm simply to feel her skin. This couldn’t be another vision.

“You’re apologising for finding me too arousing? That is a new one.” She snorted, rolling her eyes before propping herself up on an elbow and making him look at her: “Could I make you swear an oath do you think?”

“Anything.” He eagerly replied, mirroring her propped up pose, their arms now lolling over each other’s hips.

“No more apologising. If I am truly offended by your behaviour you’ll soon know about it. Until such a time, you should learn to relax more.”

He began to laugh: a rare, warm laugh for once not undermined by the bitterness or sarcasm in his voice.

“What?” She pouted.

“I don’t think anyone in Thedas would believe that Cassandra Pentaghast was demanding that someone ‘relax more’, you may be the only person in Skyhold with a more serious reputation than me.”

“It’s just as well no-one in Skyhold is going to find out about this little conversation then isn’t it?”

Their laughter subsided a little and Cullen fell back on the mattress drawing Cassandra in against his chest.

“Would you mind? If others knew about this I mean?” His eyes traced longing lines over her face flicking between her lips, eyes, cheeks as if unable to choose his favourite place to rest his gaze.

Cassandra looked thoughtful for a moment, frowning as she considered the implications, her fingers toying with the damp hair on his chest.

“Cullen, I could not be prouder to be seen standing by your side as your colleague as well as your lover but…but, I think now is not the time to invite gossip that may undermine you or our cause.”

“I agree. And I like sharing secrets with you.” His voice could sound incredibly filthy sometimes, Cassandra wondered if he did it on purpose but didn’t dare ask in case it frightened him out of using such resonant tones with her again.

However his voice and the closeness of their bodies was enough to drive her thoughts back to the potential they had for this undisturbed night together.

“Would you like to share another secret?” She asked. She gulped down her apprehension at adopting this role with him when his eyebrow quirked up at the promise lacing her voice.

“Yes please.” He murmured, voice thick with understanding, his scar dancing on his lip as it quirked into an excited smirk.

Without another word (Cassandra never chose to use words when actions were far more eloquent) Cassandra took Cullen’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before guiding it down to the hot sticky slickness between her legs. She didn’t have to guide him to coat his fingers in their mingled juices before she dragged his hand higher up again and began to direct his fingers to play over her swollen clit. Once he’d adapted to her soft moans and was confidently twirling his finger over her in firm circles, she let go of his hand and stroked up the inside of his thigh, glancing over his heavy balls before finding his cock half-hard and velvet beneath her touch. He groaned at the direct touch but didn’t flinch away.

Their bodies lay perfectly still, breathing coming in quickening gasps between them as their hands explored and adjusted to each minute signal. Soon Cullen was bucking into Cassandra’s hand and he could feel himself close once again. His idle hand shot out and grasped her wrist to stop her, pulling it up over her head - a tremor of recognition lighting her veins as he quickly rolled to his side – pinning her hands out of reach and continued to use his other hand to focus on Cassandra’s hot, swollen nub. 

Without the distraction of trying to pleasure Cullen simultaneously, Cassandra shut her eyes and arched beneath his touch. Without her watching him, he could watch her. His eyes narrowed on her face, carefully learning and adjusting to each slight frown, the blush that spread across her cheeks, the way she sucked her lip or opened her mouth to make silent pleas. 

While he was absorbed with watching her beautiful face flicker with the passion he was fuelling, she suddenly arched more sharply, her legs flexing, and thighs clamping around his long fingers as the blush spread from her cheeks across her chest and she clung to him as she rode through the waves of her climax.

“Cassandra, that was fucking beautiful.” Cullen blurted out before he could filter his thoughts. Cassandra grabbed at his shoulders and rolled him effortlessly (a reminder of their previous sparring matches) and quickly took his firm cock in hand once again.

“Is this alright, Commander?” She asked as she toyed with him, curious as to the effect using his official title would have in this context. She was deeply gratified with the wild surge his hips made and the incoherent groan that fell from his lips.

She sunk down onto him, hissing at the sting of his length filling her once again. This time Cassandra showed Cullen how different their love making could be alternating thrusts, grinding against him and leaning back for him to enjoy the full length of her toned body laid out before him. He was a very quick learner.

While Cassandra continued to educate Cullen, the last few patrons of the tavern (including the Inquisitor) concluded their game of Wicked Grace. A night guard swore he saw a naked elf dart across the yard, of course his fellow recruits didn’t believe his tale. Who’d be stupid enough to go naked in the icy mountain air of Skyhold?

Josephine slumped exhausted across her desk, ink staining her skin, Blackwell frowned from the corner disappointed that his heart would have to hold its peace for yet another night, he settled for dropping a blanket around her shoulders before leaving her be.

Leliana sat in her eyrie, in denial about the last three messages her ravens had brought. Her hands immediately retrieving her parchment and quill.

Solas felt something dark scuttle under his skin and buried it away, allowing the soothing painting to distract him once more.

Vivienne lay, still dressed, on her fine bed a letter crumpled in her hand, eyes swollen from tears, while she explored the fade uneasily.

Dorian lay sprawled in the library chair, a half-drunk bottle of wine drooping from his fingers – it was the only way he could sleep these days.

Soldiers walked unhurriedly on the battlements, a calm, star-filled sky lulling them into a false sense of security.

All was as it usually was of a night in Skyhold. Only Morrigan knew better and now she had to decide how and when to tell the Inquisition of Corypheus’s latest plan to disrupt their, already disrupted, slumbers forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big battle coming up, thought it was probably about time to stop indulging the smut/angst and start remembering why these two are actually in positions of authority! (There will be more smut though)
> 
> Please let me know what you think - comments/kudos etc really make my day!


	13. The Arbor Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition forces march on the Arbor Wilds  
> Cullen and Cassandra are formidable on the battlefield earning the (grudging) respect of the Inquisitor.  
> While the troops celebrate their victory, Cullen and Cassandra celebrate privately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...By privately I, of course, mean sexily :)
> 
> This is a much longer chapter, trying to deal with a number of plot/character development points and not entirely sure it worked but see what you think.
> 
> Please let me know any feedback/comments. I really, really appreciate it!

“Where’s General Cullen?”

“He led the charge at dawn, hasn’t stopped fighting since. The man hasn’t slept more than an hour for two days running.”

“Andraste give me strength or make me that young again.”

Cassandra observed proudly that the Inquisitor’s expression softened somewhat when she heard the admiration the troops had for their Commander; perhaps she’d misjudged them after all.

With little time for further contemplation the Inquisitor led her party through the humid air and creepers of the Arbor Wilds. An endless stream of red Templars and their despicable creations keeping them occupied.

Cassandra was focused; this was where she excelled – her blade an extension of her arm as she cut through the enemy without remorse.

The Temple of Mythal seemed to be beyond an infinite number of clearings, around every bend new enemies approached and although she had stamina she did begin to worry that perhaps their intelligence had been inaccurate; they were now deep in the wilds with no sign of Corypheus or the fabled ruins.

After crawling through more dense foliage the group emerged into a clearing where Inquisition forces battled the tell-tale scarlet of their foes. Cassandra threw herself into the fray, her shield impacting heavily against a venatori soldier, temporarily stunning him. Before she could strike, Sera’s arrow had pierced his skull and he crumpled at Cassandra’s feet. She looked to the elf who winked at her before spinning away to continue her deadly volley. 

Cassandra felt a body approaching from behind her and swung her blade to slice through her foe only to have her blow met by a shield. She grunted in surprise as she recognised the burning eyes of the Commander. 

“Cullen.” She said, relieved to see him relatively unscathed although his breath was ragged and there was a worrying amount of blood on his armour and splattering his face. 

“Go on, I’m fine.” Cullen huffed.

He looked better than fine, thought Cassandra, admiring the fine sheen of sweat that covered his face and the way his eyes blazed. The look now familiar from an altogether different activity.

Obeying his command, Cassandra surged forward again to strike down an abomination who was stalking the Inquisitor. The two women then worked together to weaken the remaining threat as their mages and archers cleared the bridge. 

When the action appeared to calm, the Inquisitor put two filthy fingers into her mouth whistling to draw her party’s attention. Smiling at Sera, she didn’t notice the injured red Templar making one final, desperate slash at her. Cullen, however did, and threw himself ahead of his herald to block the blow before executing the enemy with a decisive blow.

The action was over in a matter of seconds, taking the Inquisitor a couple of seconds longer to register the danger she’d been in. She grabbed the top of Cullen’s arm and nodded her thanks as they both regained their breath and soon he was gone again to help support the forces elsewhere.

Soon the group were before the temple gates. They knew what was needed but now they were here the task seemed daunting.

“Inquisitor, who do you wish to venture with you?” Cassandra asked to spur the decision on.

“Sera, Solas – you’re with me; Morrigan must have ample protection. Bull, you’ll flank us. Any objections?” The Inquisitor said decisively. 

“If I may,” Cassandra began, making the Inquisitor breath out and roll her eyes, ”Would it not be prudent to have more than one warrior? If the forces inside in any way match those we’ve encountered so far…?”

“Fine.” The Inquisitor interrupted, her face blushing with indignation at having been contradicted publicly “Blackwall, you’ll be coming with us. You can thank Lady Cassandra for the decision.”

“Yes, My Lady.” Blackwall smiled awkwardly at them both, clearly not enjoying being a pawn in their power play.

Cassandra frowned, Blackwall was not what she’d meant when she voiced her concerns and the Inquisitor knew it. As the party began making their preparations, Cassandra felt uneasy and, without asking permission drew the Inquisitor aside.

“Inquisitor…”

“Cassandra, I know you doubt my judgement…” The Inquisitor interrupted with an honest, open stare that stalled Cassandra for a moment.

“Inquisitor I’ve never…”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m not stupid. I see the little looks you give each other.” The Inquisitor snorted “Honestly, you two are like my fucking parents sometimes, I see that disapproving ‘oh dear, look what she’s up to’ look pass between you and I…” She sighed, shaking her head. 

Cassandra gulped guiltily, feeling suddenly very ashamed at her behaviour, the Inquisitor continued however:

“I know you wish a smarter, more mature, perhaps a more obedient host had been struck with this….this” She flailed her glowing palm “fucking anchor instead of being stuck with me.” 

“Please, you’re not…” Cassandra knew her voice felt very small.

“Just. Listen.” The Inquisitor demanded through gritted teeth, taking a step closer to Cassandra so that they were standing uncomfortably close, their voices now hushed. Cassandra just nodded chastised by the sharpness of the truth of the words.

“I need to keep you and Cullen safe. You need to lead the battle here where I know you’ll be able to bring us a victory instead of losing you to whatever lunacy we’ll face inside that temple. The troops in the wilds will be too unnerved if they cannot see the excellent example you’ve both set so far; I don’t want them losing focus. Now, Dorian and Vivienne are our finest mages, their barriers and healing is far more crucial here with the majority of our forces – I can rely on Solas for our needs. I need to keep an eye on Sera, I love her but…she’s too much of a liability to leave her loose out here. I know Varric is excellent in close combat but I can’t risk him coming with me this time. He can find Hawke, if I’m lost you may need to….” The Inquisitor’s tactics had tumbled from her lips, all the time her cold eyes darting around, lighting on certain members as she spoke of them, but at the mention of her own mortality she huffed, feeling small and vulnerable at having to explain herself.

“Of course Inquisitor. At your command.” Cassandra nodded calmly “But, just so you know, you are no more dispensable than any of us. Do not throw yourself into harm’s way. Please. Adopt as much caution as possible and I promise we will do the same here. No unnecessary bloodshed today.”

“For fuck’s sake! If you could stop treating me as a child, a liability, and just trust my judgement for once…” She was frustrated, scared: Cassandra knew that feeling all too well.

“Inquisitor I have every faith in you. As do we all. We will ensure your party come back to a victory on the field and a celebration at home.”

“You’d better.” She muttered back, but there was a smile tugging unsuccessfully around the edges of her lips as she spun her blades absent-mindedly in her hands.

Cassandra gave her shoulder a firm squeeze and nodded her approval before retreating, allowing the Inquisitor to direct her party with the independence she craved.

The fighting had eased by the time that Cassandra left the Inquisitor and returned to camp. Occasionally she’d come across a lone venatori fighting like a wounded animal, it almost seemed cruel to strike these isolated men down but she did so with compassionate swiftness.

As night fell, Cassandra found the outlying tents of the camp, here and there soldiers sat quietly assessing their own injuries and dwelling on the horrors they’d encountered. The older soldiers comforting the new recruits with bawdy tales and contraband liquor.

Cassandra scoured the camp for her Commander knowing he’d be assisting his men somehow. As she cast a concerned eye over the wounded stationed on the outskirts of the camp, she was aware that all the able-bodied members of the Inquisition had fallen silent and moved towards the centre of the area. 

Without saying a word, Cullen had commanded the camp’s attention standing ready to address the exhausted forces. The sight of his form, glimmering in the camp fire in the falling light was magnificent. How could the Inquisitor ever have doubted him?

“You have fought tirelessly, bravely and with conviction. Your Inquisitor now goes forward with confidence thanks to your efforts here today. When we return to Skyhold there will be time to celebrate but for tonight let us remember those we have lost and be vigilant as we rest. I will take the night watch so that you can recover your strength for our journey home. Maker watch over you all.” 

Cullen bowed his head for a moment allowing the silent prayers for the fallen to finish before striding away from the group smiling with acknowledgement at the many salutes and bows he met as he passed. From her place at the back of the group, Cassandra continued to watch as he made himself busy:

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes ser.”

“See that our troops have their ration of ale and no more – we do not want to be caught off guard if anything goes wrong at the temple. You can assure the men that they can make up for lost time as soon as we’re safely back in Skyhold.”

“Yes ser.”

“Food rations are lifted however, we want our men well fed and comforted before the long march home.”

“Yes ser.”

“Oh, and good work today.” Cullen shook his lieutenant’s hand before she departed to complete his orders.

Cullen rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as Cassandra approached. She knew he was replaying the day’s events, calculating the losses already composing the painful letters home.

It would be a small comfort only, but a comfort nonetheless – she knew where he needed to be and gently guided him by the arm until they arrived at the small, improvised shrine to Andraste.

Together, they kneeled with the small group of worshippers to place his own candle amongst the offerings. The few voices, ragged with sleep and grief and an underlying gratitude that they still had their tongues in their heads to pray, lifted together to chant:

“As the Sun renews itself, so must the faithful renew their love of the Maker. Your penance shall be a joy, serving Him with a heart of love unbound. Your struggles shall be a gift, for it redeems you in his sight. Maker let me be a worthy servant, that you might take me unto your side.”

At the back of the group, Cullen’s hands fell loosely to his side once more as he stared into the flickering shadows cast by the votives. Cassandra slyly turned to consider what thoughts could be crowding her beloved’s mind on the eve of his victory. He’d truly proven himself this day and yet he frowned, running over the decisions that had paved the way for the Inquisitor still missing and, of course, their other companions and friends who’d accompanied her. Cassandra stood and placed her hand on Cullen’s shoulder where he quickly laid his for a comforting squeeze before she continued on her way, not wishing to intrude on his private contemplation any further.

Eventually the camp grew quiet. Not silent, for there were whimpers from the healer’s beds and excited whispers from the tents of the newest recruits reliving their moments of glory. The exotic birds pierced the air with their own news and the fire crackled in the centre of the camp.  
As promised, Cullen sat as night watch, his pupils wide as he watched the flames lick at the black sky. He was calm. Relieved by the victory, relieved that his shattered body and brain had not undermined the Inquisition, relieved that his troops had performed well and most of all (although her felt selfish acknowledging it) relieved that the Inquisitor had not taken Cassandra into the sinister temple with her.

As a strange echo from that night many, many moons ago when the whole Inquisition had raised their voices in a proclamation of faith, the night that Cullen had first dared to hope that Cassandra may be far more precious than merely a friend, Cassandra approached him in the dark and tilted her head a little to indicate that Cullen should make room for her on the log. 

They sat observing the peculiar noises and familiar stars, his flask once again being passed between them as they shared the responsibility of night watch.

From the quiet, they both suddenly spoke at once:

“Do you remember…”

“I was just thinking…”

They both smiled, Cullen shaking his head as Cassandra groaned at their natural awkwardness seemingly amplified when they were together, before she spoke again.

“That night. When you first kissed me.”

“Yes.” He smiled, of course they shared one mind, one memory.

“How long had you wanted to do that for?” She asked shyly.

“For longer than I should admit. But I never dreamed to think…” He licked his lips quickly, Cassandra pulled his hand away from where it was resting on his knee and laced her fingers through his.

“I know.” She said simply.

“And you? Had you thought about…this?” He asked earnestly, lifting her knuckles to kiss them gently.

“Why else would I have recruited you?” She grinned, it was not the truth entirely, but not completely a lie either. 

“Lady Cassandra, that is scandalous.” He quirked his eyebrow as his free hand cupped her chin and drew him to her for a long overdue kiss. Their tongues instinctively finding their rhythm now as they sunk into each other’s warmth. This kiss lacked the urgency or hesitancy of so many of their others, it was almost becoming a routine. And these lovers greatly enjoyed order and routine.

As they parted, Cullen wrapped an arm around Cassandra’s waist pulling her closer to him as she rested her head on his shoulder and they continued to watch the fire.

“I probably shouldn’t say this, but I’m pleased the Inquisitor didn’t take you with her. I know it should probably concern me that she didn’t see fit to protect herself with the best warrior she has but I don’t think I’d have been able to continue in battle knowing you were in there.”

“Nonsense, you’d have fought all the more fiercely.”

“Did I not fight fiercely enough as it is?” He rumbled, kissing the top of her head.

“You know you did. But you’re wrong about the Inquisitor.”

“In what way?”

“She thought through her tactics very carefully, we spoke of it before she entered the temple. Honestly, Cullen, I think we may have underestimated her.”

Cullen made a noncommittal hum in response and took another drink from the flask. Cassandra continued, recalling the Inquisitor’s angry little face with affection.

“She said we should trust her more, that we reminded her of her parents.” 

This drew a laugh from Cullen who pulled his head away from Cassandra’s a little to better see if she was lying. She smiled back openly.

“Her parents?” He smirked incredulously. Cassandra nodded:

“Apparently we give each other ‘little looks’ of disapproval, her exact words were ‘you two are like my fucking parents’. It’s certainly an insight into her upbringing wouldn’t you say?”

“Can you imagine having a wayward daughter like that?” Cullen groaned, laughing a little “Her poor parents.”

“Oh I don’t know, I think I would be proud to have a tenacious, fearless little girl. We should probably admire her more than we do, it can’t be easy with the responsibility that’s been thrown on her.”

“Indeed. She is remarkable in her own way. Not a patch on her ‘mother’ though.” And he dug his fingers into Cassandra’s side to emphasise his teasing tone making her laugh before she’d realised what he’d said.

They looked at each other with an unspoken question hanging between them. If they didn’t die in battle, if Thedas was saved, if their duties were relieved, would they…could they?

“Oh please don’t stop on our account.”

The unexpected voice made them part as if they’d been stung. Dorian and Varric appeared from the shadows to take their places opposite the couple who now sat with a suspicious space between them. The intruders looked at each other with raised eyebrows before laughing out loud at the awkwardness.

“Oh come on Curly, no one would begrudge you a little happiness after your display of leadership today.” Varric smiled benevolently at Cullen who blushed in response. “I mean, they might question your choice of partner but they’d be happy as long as they knew that you were happy.”

“Hey!” Cullen objected to Varric’s slur of Cassandra. This only served to make the pair of troublemakers laugh harder.

“That’s far more like it. Very chivalrous, defending your fair maiden.” Dorian quipped as Cassandra scowled at them both. The shadows from the flames giving her, already formidable glare, a demonic air.

“Not another word.” Cassandra snarled. By this time, Cullen had found that the laughter was infectious and he relaxed against her once again.

“Oh, now, now. You should be grateful to us don’t you think? Without a little guidance, some fine words, a smattering of theoretical instruction, well…who knows if you’d ever have found each other.” Dorian looked all together too smug as he and Varric clinked their flasks in self-congratulation.

“I think you take too much credit Dorian, a little guidance may have been appreciated but I’m not as useless as you two seem to think.” Cullen smirked knowingly at Cassandra as her expression thawed and she found she actually enjoyed finally sharing her joy in this way.

“Oh really? Do tell.” Dorian prompted, one hand cupping his chin as he leant forward eagerly.

This stopped Cullen in his tracks as he flustered for a moment over how he could possibly explain. Taking pity on his friend, Varric raised his flask across the space to toast with the happy couple:

“To love. Maker knows we need a little happiness in our lives right now.”

The four toasted and drank together before falling into another companionable lull. Each one thinking of the lives they held dear that were still notably absent. Varric put one hand on Dorian’s shoulder, Dorian didn’t shake it off but he cleared his throat as he raised his eyes across the space once more:

“I think we can take over here, don’t you? I should think the Commander needs his rest as much as his troops. Run along the pair of you before we demand all the details.”

Cullen and Cassandra didn’t need to be prompted twice, they rose from the seat, holding hands naturally as if they’d always done so and thanked the two men still seated before retiring to their tents.

“You know…” Varric began, his tone hesitant and comforting.

“Yes, yes. Nothing to worry about.” Dorian snapped back before draining the last of his flask. Varric let his hand fall away again.

“Sure Sparkler.” He responded quietly. Varric sighed sympathetically; he knew how it felt to not know whether your loved one was alive or dead, only, for Varric, he’d become used to the gnawing pain whereas it was fresh for poor Dorian.

Rather than retiring to their separate tents, Cullen and Cassandra had snuck to hers (his was in the centre of the soldiers and hardly seemed appropriate). As they removed each other’s armour between rushed kisses, wounds, bruises and aches began to reveal themselves. Each one making them wince or gasp as they reached to soothe each other with soft touches. Unsurprisingly, Cullen had sustained far more injuries than she; he had been leading the charge and had remained at the front for almost two days straight.

After Cassandra pulled his shirt over his head, she stood back to admire and frown at the mottled, bruised skin of his gorgeous torso.

“Cullen, did you not feel that?” Cassandra asked, eyes widening at a shallow but large gash across his ribs, the surrounding flesh red and angry looking as if he’d been burnt through his armour. She touched her fingers sensitively to the area and he immediately gritted his teeth.

“Ah, no, I have no idea how that happened.” He looked bashful at his carelessness as she tutted. He leant forward to unlace his boots and immediately cried out at the pain of bending the injury on his side.

“Maker Cullen, do you need to see a healer?”

“Of course not. I’ll just be more careful. Besides the healers are overstretched as it is.” He began contorting himself to try to bend a different way but to no avail. Cassandra tutted and swatted his hands away as she knelt before him and began unlacing his boots. Once she’d removed them both, he began to move again with the same uncomfortable wincing sounds. 

“You’re being ridiculous. Stand still.” Cassandra scolded from her place on the floor. He struggled to control his urge to laugh and held in his desire to tell him that she did sound like a cross mother, exactly as the Inquisitor had complained.

His thoughts speedily diverted from homely domesticity to something far more primal as her hands ran over the front of his trousers and unbuckled his belt, flinging it to the side. He drew in a breath in anticipation. Nothing was lost on Cassandra, she could see and feel how the tension in his body had changed and she looked up at him as she rested her palms on his thighs:

“I could stay down here, would you like that?” She asked, her eyebrow raised questioningly.

“No.” Cullen blurted out, taking her hands as they began snaking their way up the front of his thighs. She looked shocked. “I mean, Cassandra, you don’t have to.” 

“Huh.” 

Cullen was floundering, unsure as to why his consideration for her should be met with such disapproval. Her hands continued to work on his laces, although now with a little more roughness.

“I mean,” he sighed, “I don’t want to demean…”

Cassandra’s eyes shot up at his and her hands stilled.

“Demean? Ha! Do you feel demeaned when you lay your head between my thighs?”

“Cassandra!” He gasped, partly with the shock of her brazen question and partly as her hands snaked into his trousers to roll them down and her cool fingers were brushing over him.

“When you use your tongue to bring me pleasure?” She asked the question so sweetly, like it was a simple request but the image in conjured…

“Sweet Maker, no!”

“How does it make you feel?” 

Cullen felt exposed by her hands and by her interrogation. It was obvious how it made him feel as the memory of their encounters was stirring his cock to hardness where it stood proudly mere inches from her face.

“I…,” As he spoke, Cassandra lifted his feet out of his trousers and underwear until he stood naked before her terrified and incredibly aroused, he didn’t dare glance at her as he continued to speak: “it feels…wonderful.” Her hands ran up his thighs again until they were smoothing circles over his backside and holding him so close he could feel her hot breath on him, his tongue loosened “it feels powerful and…”She dragged her nails loosely over his ass as it tensed in her grip and then her fingers edged forward where they traced patterns so close to his thick cock that it pulsed instinctively, the surge of blood made him moan as he continued, with growing confidence “I love watching you come undone from my mouth alone. It feels like I’m worshipping you as you deserve.”

When Cassandra spoke she was so close he could feel the heat and vibration in her husky question and it made him bite his lip and grasp at her shoulders to steady himself:

“And you’d deny me that same wonderful, powerful feeling?”

“You’re a born diplomat Lady Cassandra.”

His throaty reply earned him a warm, wet kiss planted on the delicate skin on the fold of his hips, so close…

“I think Josephine would have something to say about that.” Cassandra whispered, blowing on the wet trail she was leaving on his skin. He tensed as he replied:

“I think Josephine deserves to be spared these details, don’t you?” He barely knew what he was saying as his heart beat in his ears at the torturous anticipation Cassandra was building in him.

“I have it on good authority that these are exactly the sort of details Josephine enjoys reading about.”

Cullen groaned, the images confounding him through the haze of warmth now building in the tent. He ran a hand over his face:

“Please. Why did I need to know that?”

Cassandra chuckled, low and wicked and her kisses ran all around the base of his cock, nuzzling at the curls there but never quite bringing him the relief he was craving now.

“Commander, do you think…” She began, clearly determined to drive him to madness, he growled and pawed at her hair.

“Enough talking.” He commanded. That voice, rich and low, sent a lightning bolt to Cassandra’s groin and it was her turn to moan as she replied:

“Quite.” Before rolling her tongue along the entire length of him, tasting the salty beads at the head and thoroughly covering him with hot moisture before sinking forward taking in his entire length. 

He gasped at the searing heat and pressure of Cassandra’s disturbingly gifted mouth. If Cullen was a jealous man, he’d be on a rampage now to find out how in Maker’s name she’d learnt to swallow a man’s length with such effortless skill. Any thought however was wrung from him as he struggled to stay standing while her hands grasped at him and her mouth pulsed around him. 

Once Cassandra judged that he had recovered from the initial shock she moved her head back again, rolling her lips tightly over him and bobbing at the head as her tongue swirled around him. She smiled as she heard his voice trying to form coherent words and failing miserably. Each time his body flexed, he winced again at the pain of his side. Despite enjoying the sight of his well- muscled form above her, she took pity and pulled her mouth away, running her tongue in a fine point over the head before standing.

She almost laughed out loud at his baffled expression, uncomprehending as if she’d cruelly stop now. She held his hand and led him to the bed, guiding him to lie down gently, allowing him to adjust so that his injuries did not hinder his movements. As he lay, gasping, completely at her mercy she stripped off the rest of her clothes – stilling him with a stern look each time he reached out to help her.

Cassandra lay over Cullen and kissed his neck, his collarbone, licked long strokes up his throat imitating her earlier moves until she felt his cock twitching beneath her. She held his face in her hands and kissed his mouth, forcing him to look her in the eye as she spoke:

“I thought you may be more comfortable like this. Allow me to show my admiration and appreciation for your fine show of leadership today Commander.” 

“Cassandra.” He hissed as a prayer as she meandered her way down his body once again, her tongue making flickering promises of what lay in store. Once she was settled between his thighs, she ran her hands over his groin, lightly tightening in the curls before one slipped around the base of his cock gripping and testing his hardness, the other softly stroking and cupping his balls. He said her name again, all further language lost to him. Her name now everything as her tongue laved his thick head once more until he was gently bucking, silently begging for her to take him in her mouth again.

The world dissolved, his breath escaped as she swallowed him once more. The combination of the little sighs that left her as she moved up and down; the sight of her cheeks hollowing around him; the warmth and tightness of her throat threatened to overwhelm him.

His fists balled the sheets either side, his fingers flexing with their need to anchor him. The muscles in his legs clenched and his feet flexed as he felt the warm swell of desire begin to throb through his limbs. Cassandra began alternating her speed, using her hand to pump the velvet, hard skin of his shaft. Each time her mouth left him exposed, her breaths tingled on his flesh until he was almost painfully sensitive.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” She murmured, devouring him whole once again as if to demonstrate the desperation of her fantasies, his hands left the sheets and wound through her hair.

“Watching you today, it was so inspirational.” She continued as if ‘inspirational’ were the filthiest word in existence.

“I imagine at least half the soldiers are lying awake in their beds right now imagining they were in here with you. Their fierce Commander.”

The pride in her voice almost as arousing as the way she ground her hips in time with her sucking, as though pleasuring him brought her exquisite pleasure too.

“Cassandra.” He whispered her name again like his own chant of light. Cullen didn’t consider himself to be an arrogant man, but the way she was praising him with her body and words was intoxicating. He could feel a fire of lust building in his abdomen and struggled to breathe steadily lest the experience be over all too quickly.

“When I struck out at you today and you blocked me, you were so close, your body so strong. Maker, I wished the whole world would just stop for a moment so I could fall to my knees and worship you right there and then.” The fervour in her voice left Cullen in no doubt that this was the truth and he fought the impulse to grab her beautiful face and thrust into her mouth. Instead he kept winding his fingers in her soft, dark hair and let her control his pleasure.

“I want to taste you Cullen, please, don’t hold back.” She moaned with encouragement as she sunk onto him again, her tongue pulsing around him as she swallowed him down and massaged his balls while his hips began to jerk off the bed.

He could feel the instant effect of her request cutting the last thread of self-control and soon the waves of hot arousal were licking higher. Suddenly she swirled her tongue around his head and sucked harder while one of her hands pushed down on his groin and the other tugged gently at his balls and he was lost. Swept away on the tide and she was groaning, making appreciative, obscene wet noises as he flooded her mouth.

He felt the tightness and release as she swallowed and ran her tongue around him, cleaning his hyper sensitive head before she kissed his thighs and stomach and nestled her face against him, looking up with an absurdly innocent, wide-eyed gaze.

He caught her eye and felt immediately embarrassed by his lack of control, he stroked her hair as she lay contentedly resting on his thigh like an indulged cat just watching him as his chest rose and fell. Eventually he tugged at her with his large hands, encouraging her to lie further up his body and nestle into the crook of his arm. There was a little painful adjustment around the large gash on his side and the numerous bruises on both of them.

They lay joined together by the sweat in the humid tent, one of his hands sidling down her body, caressing her curves until it came to the hot, wet core. He slowly ran his fingers over her entrance as she’d shown him before gathering the moisture before beginning to circle her swollen clit. She purred sleepily before holding his hand and moving it away to rest on her waist. He was surprised, and tried to persist:

“Please, I’d like to, um, return to favour.” Cullen explained, kissing her cheek.

“And you can, but not now. For now, I’m rather enjoying seeing you content and I’d like us to sleep here together. Anyway, it’s gratifying to know you owe me a favour now. A favour I can call in at any time, you have been warned.” She stretched and found a comfortable place beside him, now resembling a cat more than ever.

“Challenge accepted. I look forward to it.” And placing an affectionate kiss on the top of her messy hair they soon fell into their mutually contented sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments/feedback all make my day!


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